


Bunnies

by Salon_Kitty



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Disturbing Themes, Gen, I mean it's Todd, NUFF SAID, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:06:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salon_Kitty/pseuds/Salon_Kitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Todd likes spending time with his two favorite people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. those pink eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Water On Mars (or Slouching Towards Something Better)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049764) by [Salon_Kitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salon_Kitty/pseuds/Salon_Kitty). 



> This is meant to be a companion piece to my current story, _Water On Mars_ , so if you've already read up to Chapter 11 of that fic, you'll recognize some of the settings.
> 
> I suppose any fic that spends any amount of time covering Jesse's ordeal at the compound is automatically going to be Non-Con, but there is a disturbing scene in this story that borders on graphic.
> 
> Initially written to fill a prompt in the Blue XMeth Challenge, but I failed miserably at it, so, let's just call this an outtake.  
> Many thanks to celeryy for her excellent beta work.
> 
>  

  _those pink eyes_

 

 

_“Todd, I think I may have another job for your uncle.”_

               At first Todd is cool with it. When Mister White said the name over the phone, Todd wasn’t too surprised, really. That little guy was pretty excitable. Todd knew he’d become a problem sooner or later. He listens to Mister White explain things to Uncle Jack, while Todd sits behind him a few feet, wondering if Mister White will be happy to work with him again. Kenny has already suggested that this job would be the way to get Mister White cooking for _them,_ get that blue color Lydia –she _did_ say Todd could call her that, and Todd smiles a little thinking about it—wants so badly. Uncle Jack is floating the idea to Mister White right now, and Mister White looks back at Todd like it was all his idea. That’s pretty cool, too. He likes the thought that Mister White considers Todd the brains behind the operation.

 

                “ _How angry we talking? Like, Rambo, James Bond, Hulk-type angry?”_

                That gives Todd a reason to smile, too. He shakes his head at Uncle Jack at that one; it’s pretty funny to imagine it. Jesse Pinkman wasn’t no Rambo, he wasn’t even a John McClane. He did throw a mean punch, though. Todd hadn’t expected that. Uncle Jack tells Mister White that you don’t skimp on family if you want it done up right, and Uncle Jack should know. He always tells Todd that family comes first. Todd wonders why Mister White considers Jesse family, at all, wonders if maybe the two of them work together more then perhaps Mister White will come to think of Todd as family, too. But no, Mister White will only agree to one cook.

 

                Uncle Jack tells Mister White to shake on it. _You can tell a man’s salt by the grip in his hand,_ his uncle always tell him. Mister White doesn’t look too happy about it, but he takes Uncle Jack’s hand, anyway. Todd thinks that one cook is better than no cook, and maybe he can change Mister White’s mind when he’s got him back in the lab, after Jesse’s dead. It occurs to him that maybe his uncle will let him do the deed. He does have history with Pinkman, after all. He really should be the one to do it.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

                The idea comes to him in a flashing moment, feeling right and perfect as soon as it lands in his brain, right as he’s watching Pinkman take a final look at the sky, Frankie ready to pull the trigger.  Mister White liked Jesse so much, thought of him as _family_ , because Jesse knew how to cook. He had seen them sometimes, leaving the fumigated houses while Todd sat in his truck watching. They’d be smiling or laughing about something, Mister White would sometimes put his hand on Jesse’s shoulder, like the way dads would touch their sons on television shows. And it would make sense that it was because Jesse did everything right. And Todd wants his meth to be right, too, wants to give Lydia the best purity he can manage. Well, here’s his answer right in front of him. Because even though Mister White doesn’t like Jesse anymore, that doesn’t mean that the rest of them shouldn’t benefit, that _Lydia_ couldn’t benefit from having a real good cook on her team.

 

_“Uncle Jack, wait.”_

                When they put Jesse in the back seat of the car, he looks like he’s just been told his dog died. Although, personally, Todd never got that upset over some dogs dying. Maybe it’s because the dogs were never his. Todd wonders who Jane is, why it’s got Jesse so bummed that Mister White let her die. He kind of feels bad for Jesse as he watches him, but he’s also thinking about what he’s going to use to find out what Jesse told those agents. Can’t use the shears to cut off any fingers, Jesse’ll need those to cook. He can’t use a two by four or a baseball bat, in case he causes some brain damage. It’s going be a real pickle to figure this out.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_“Okay. Let’s cook.”_

Jesse looks at him like he’s nuts, but Todd doesn’t let it bother him. He just pulls out another mask and approaches Jesse with it. He’s already suited up, but it’s going to be impossible to try and slip the Tyvek on Jesse over those cables and chains. Jesse will just have to settle for clean air, and try not to spill anything on his skin.

 

He backs away slowly, looks like he’s expecting another fist to the face, but Todd holds up the mask in front of him to show him what Todd’s doing.

 

“Gotta do it, Jesse. It’s for your own protection. Can’t have you getting sick. Mr. White says it’s a bad deal when you breathe in some of these fumes. I’ll try and be careful around the worst of the cuts.”

 

Jesse really does look a mess. Todd’s right fist doesn’t look so good, either. He had to switch to using the butt of a gun, after a while. Then he moved to whipping a bike chain across Jesse’s face when the little guy _still_ wouldn’t give up an answer. It had been frustrating as hell, but Todd didn’t want to give the job to anyone else. His uncle is counting on him. Plus, Kenny and the rest don’t understand, can’t see why it’s so important to keep Jesse alive. But Lydia will understand. She’ll probably be pretty happy about it, too. Todd can hardly wait to show her what Jesse cooks up. Maybe he _will_ wait, when he gets there, should tease out the moment for her. See her eyes go crazy big when he tells her the news. Yeah, that would be sweet.

 

Jesse cries out when Todd fits the mask over his face. He starts breathing really fast, looks like he’s going to start crying again. Jesse tries to break away from him and falls, but the cable holds Jesse up so he sways a little, bent over and hanging from the ceiling. Todd sighs deeply, his breath releasing through his mask making him sound like Darth Vader. This batch could take a while. He pulls Jesse up, makes him stand on his feet. Holds him by his throat until he calms down. Jesse goes real still.

 

“I know you want to do the right thing, here, Jesse. Mr. White gave _me_ the business, on account of he wanted out. But he didn’t teach me the way he taught you. So you’re gonna have to step it up. Forget about that dead kid and them two cops, this is where you’re at now and this is where you’re gonna stay. It’s actually a pretty sweet deal, when you think about it, Jesse. You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”

 

He can hear Jesse whimper from inside his mask. Jesse looks away, scans the equipment and then down at his feet. He nods his head.

 

“See? We can make this real easy, or we can make it hard for you. Personally, I think an easy working relationship would be best. You just tell me what you need, and I’ll let you do the … mixing stuff and everything. I think I burned out the blue on the last try. We need to make sure it’s super blue. That’s real important, Jesse.”

 

Jesse’s face is slowly disappearing behind the fog on the glass. He needs to stop breathing so heavy. But Todd can see Jesse’s eyes, and they’re wide, as wide as Lydia’s, and bluer than Mister White’s 99%. Todd thinks that Jesse understands now.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Hmm. I don’t know, Jesse. I’m not saying it’s no good, but I think you could do better.”

 

He looks through the refracto-thing, he can’t ever remember the name of it. He thinks of it as his truth meter, but it’s like holding one of those kaleidoscopes with the pretty, broken lights in them, in all different shapes. All he can see now is the shadow settling at a line on the scale, and he quickly checks his graph to see where it lands. 89% is better than what he made, but still … he thinks Jesse isn’t really giving his new job the proper focus. He knows Jesse would do a lot better than that for Mister White.

 

Jesse mumbles something in answer, but he’s still got his mask on. Todd steps over to him, grabs the bottom at Jesse’s chin and slides it up. Jesse swallows so hard Todd can watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, sees the deep red impression from the rubber guard of the respirator across Jesse’s forehead and down the sides of his face.

 

“Could you repeat that, please?” Mister White used to say that to him whenever Todd would try to answer one of his science questions. It would always make him nervous.

 

“The tanks. They need to be cleaned. You got, like, vestiges and shit backed up in them.”

 

Todd turns to gawk at the big cook vat to his left. Damn, he can’t believe it. He hasn’t really cleaned anything since they took all the equipment off of Mister White’s hands. Cleaning days were a pain in the ass; he never really understood the point. It wasn’t like those steps made them any money. He totally forgot, but then, a lot of shit’s been happening. Todd slaps Jesse on the back, grinning wide.

 

“Damn, Jesse, you’re so freaking smart. I got so busy with everything else, I wasn’t paying attention to my notes. That makes total sense. Man, I knew this was gonna be a good idea, having you here. I told Uncle Jack, no matter how much you got, how do you turn your back on more? Right? You’re gonna make us more money than all those stacks in Mister White’s barrels, just you wait.”

 

Jesse doesn’t look comforted by the idea. Todd thinks he looks kind of green, actually. He wonders if Jesse might throw up. He puts his hand on Jesse’s shoulder and strokes him with his thumb, smiles so that Jesse doesn’t get scared. He won’t let anything happen to him, not if the next batch is better, even if Uncle Jack does want to waste their cook. Todd thinks back on the tape Kenny played for them, how Jesse was so intense when he talked about him, calling him Opie like that old tv show. Jesse remembers every little thing that happens, and that’ll be good for the cook. Good for Lydia. _Stick it in down there, you’re pulling back a stump._ He let his uncle and the boys make fun of him, tried not get mad, but they don’t get it. _Lydia_ deserves the best.

 

Todd remembers asking Mister White once why he was making meth and Mister White had said the same thing: it was because his family deserved the best. He thinks about Mrs. White, wonders how she feels about that. They know the DEA are watching her at Mister White’s house. The lawyers are probably asking her all sorts of questions. That’s what Lydia says, and she’s worried Mrs. White is going to mention that she saw her at the carwash. She wants Todd to do something about that.

 

“ _Todd, I know you’ll take the appropriate action to fix this little problem. I believe in you.”_

It would be really great if he could bring her two wins. Who knows what she’ll do with all that good news. He’s not sure what to do about Mrs. White, though. Todd wouldn’t want to offend Mister White. He’s got too much respect for the man. Todd pulls Jesse by the arm, hears the roller-skating noise of the cable’s pin rushing down the track.

 

“All right, Jesse. Let’s start cleaning.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kenny gives him a funny look. “You giving him some of our ice cream? What, he your buddy now?”

 

“Nah, it’s just … it’s like his reward, you know?”

 

“Right, like positive reinforcement, or something? Don’t work. That’s why we got a nanny state, son, all these crybaby kids running around with parents that think the government owes their little miracle squirts special consideration. Little pussy don’t deserve it, but whatever, you old softie.”

 

“Nah, it’s not like that.”

 

“Better not be my chocolate chip,” Kenny says as he saunters back to the clubhouse. “You’re gonna spoil him!”

 

Todd is excited, though, wants to see Jesse’s face when he tells him. He pulls the tarp back, listens to the _whoosh_ catch under it, like a sail, and feels like he’s the magician’s assistant revealing the vanished lady in the other box. Looks like Jesse is sleeping. The moonlight shines on a patch of Jesse’s arm, his scorpion tattoo standing out, like a dragon’s breath snaking up Jesse’s body. Todd really likes that tattoo. It makes Jesse look so cool.

 

“Hey, Jesse, you awake?”

 

Jesse stirs, gets up and asks what’s going on. Todd tells him about his special treat. “I bought Peanut Butter Cup and Americone Dream. I didn’t know which one you liked, so …”

 

Jesse takes the bowl out of the plastic canister Todd is using for a pulley system. Jesse has to shit and piss in it, too, but Todd cleaned it out good. Jesse’s not shitting much, anyway, which is probably a sign that he needs to start feeding him something other than pizza.

 

“So that batch that you just cooked? Was 96%. Kind of figured you deserved a little something.”

 

“Thanks,” Jesse says. Jesse can be pretty nice, really. Todd knows he was mad about the kid on the bike and all, but now … now things are different. Jesse listens to what Todd says, and Todd likes that. He watches Jesse eating his ice cream, his head bent with the moon casting the light on his back. Todd wants to say something else, think up a joke to make Jesse laugh, or tell him about the car he was looking at online, something better than the white-striped blue Mustang that he crunched into a telephone pole. But he can’t think of anything fast enough. Jesse looks up at him, like he’s wondering why Todd is still there, and that seals it for Todd. Maybe they can talk after the next cook.

 

“Well, better get some sleep, tomorrow’s gonna be a big day. Got a whole new batch.”

 

“Hey, Todd, you mind leaving the tarp off tonight?”

 

Todd doesn’t think it’s a good idea, at first. “You might get cold.” He doesn’t want to risk Jesse getting the flu or something.

 

“Nah, I don’t mind, I just wanna see the stars.”

 

Todd looks up. It sure is pretty out tonight, the moon like a big, white plate. He thinks it might make Jesse a little happier if he has something nice to look at. “Sure, okay.”

 

Jesse thanks him and Todd feels that strange little lift again. This could really work out, to something mutually good, just like him and Lydia. Being in Uncle Jack’s gang, all official now, isn’t always as fun as he thought it was going to be. But getting to spend time with Lydia, and now Jesse – it makes it all worth it.  

 

“Good night, Jesse.”

 

“Good night.”

 

He walks to the clubhouse, his hands in his pockets, and Todd smiles the whole way.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Frankie opens the gate to let them drive into the compound, Todd feels tuckered out. He’s bleary-eyed, his mind still spinning, wondering why Jesse did it, why Jesse betrayed him. He can _feel_ Jesse’s sobs still, right through his skin, where Jesse's head is laying on Todd’s leg. Todd thinks that maybe Jesse really did want to die when they caught him at the fence. Jesse sure acted like he wanted it.

 

It had almost been true, though. Todd had been surprised as hell when Kenny pointed out Jesse running on the camera feed. Uncle Jack grabbed his gun and said that was it, Jesse was a goner. But Todd had talked real fast as they ran from the clubhouse, reminded them that they still had the whereabouts of the mother and the boy. He didn’t tell them about the photograph.

 

Jesse’s girlfriend had been really pretty, too. He had liked her right away. She wasn’t rude like some girls, and she was so concerned about Jesse that she came right out on the porch, making things real easy for him. He had almost felt bad having to kill her. _Just so you know, it’s nothing personal._ Todd had hoped she was cool with that, before he pulled the trigger.  He had wondered if he should go inside, wake up the boy and pull him to the doorway for Jesse to see, but then he realized there were lights on in some houses and he really needed to get moving.

 

When he got to the van, he could hear Jesse screaming before he even got inside, before Frankie opened the door in a hurry, Todd jumping in fast so they could cut off the noise. Uncle Jack warned Jesse some more, but all it did was make Jesse bend in half and make horrible groaning sounds, like when someone was getting a bunch of quick jabs from a knife to the belly. It was tough listening to him, made Todd feel a weird squirming in his stomach, but he knew it had to be done. Jesse just had to learn. That’s what Jack had told him, when he was still a kid and his uncle had punched him for sassing back. Jack had come into his room an hour later, in their old trailer, back when his mom was still alive, and he had put his arm around Todd.

 

  _I gotta show you some tough love, Todd. Your momma ain’t gonna do it. She’s too high to feed you straight, let alone teach you some fucking manners. Sometimes, you got to be tough with kids. Make sure they grow up right. They’re like weeds; you don’t pay attention, they gonna take over your whole yard, do whatever they want. Now, it hurt when I hit you, but you’re gonna remember next time, ain’t ya? And I’m real proud of you for not crying like a baby, like a little bitch. You’re almost a man, son._

It’s a trip when he sees the underground cell, though. The door in the grate is straightened up to the sky and hanging a little back, like Jesse kicked it open and it got stuck on its hinges. He can’t figure out how Jesse did it. That little guy is a lot stronger than he looks. Todd doubts he could do it; he’d never have gotten his legs up that high. Probably never would have thought to try it.

 

“Damn, Jesse, how’d you even make it out of here? No wonder Mr. White liked you so much, you’re real smart.”

 

He goes down the ladder first, takes a look around. Todd sees the moon glint on something and he picks up the wrangled up paper clip then puts it in his pocket. He’ll have to find out how Jesse got a hold of that, but he isn’t about to tell Kenny or his uncle. They don’t need to know that Todd might have fucked up. He collects the cuffs on the floor and the chains they were attached to, drops them in the middle of the mattress and starts to roll it up.

 

“What the hell are you doing, boy?” His uncle’s really angry.

 

“We gotta bring him inside for tonight. Or till I get him to tell me how he got out. It could be risky, otherwise,” Todd explains.

“Goddammit, Todd, what the hell are you fucking around for? How much of my time is this piece of shit gonna take up? I’m already missing the playoffs. You don’t think your little stunt was effective enough? That what you saying? We told him we can get the boy anytime we want, he messes up again. I think he got the message, loud and clear. What does it matter how he got out? It happens again, I’ll kill them both, myself.”

“But Uncle Jack, I really think we need to consider our options, here. Let me just keep an eye on him inside, for tonight.”

“I hate to say it, Jack, but I think the kid’s got a fair point.” Kenny backs him up, which is strange. Kenny never backs him up.

 

“Whatever happened to professionalism is all I got to say. You two gonna hold this crybaby’s hand all night, too?”

Uncle Jack finally relents, lets Todd bring Jesse to the lab and keep him on his runner. Todd has to hook Jesse’s arms up to the bar, just in case he tries to get into something. It’s becoming clear to Todd that Jesse is pretty smart. Not as smart as Mister White, but that’s probably a good thing, ‘cause Jesse speaks to Todd a lot nicer. Except tonight, Jesse doesn’t want to talk to Todd at all. He supposes he can’t really blame him, but Todd thinks that Jesse’ll get over it. He’s learned his lesson, now Todd just has to keep him busy. Todd scoots into his sleeping bag, resigns himself to a night of listening to Jesse cry about the girl. He thinks about giving Jesse a hug, maybe try to explain things to Jesse the way that his uncle had explained it to him. But Jesse isn’t a kid. He should have known better already.

 

And then Kenny comes in with his boys.

 

“Aww, isn’t that sweet. Lookit you, hanging out with your girlfriend. You gonna bring her some more ice cream?”

 

Todd ignores the girlfriend crack. “No, I’m just watching him. He’s pretty much settled down for the night. I figured it’s just better if I guard him.”

 

“Yeah, well, we’re your relief, son. Can’t stay up all night unless you plan on hitting some of that product you’re selling. And I know you ain’t like to do that.”

 

“Nah, it’s cool, Kenny. I don’t mind.”

 

“Go on now, Todd. We got this. He stop cryin’ yet? Christ almighty, I thought he was gonna piss his pants like a little bitch back in the van.”

 

But Todd stays where he’s at, not liking the way Lester keeps leering at Jesse. Lester can be a handful. Especially, every time he tries to put his hand on Todd’s dick. It’s too bad Lester is so big, otherwise, Todd might have words with him.

 

“I don’t know, Kenny,” Lester taunts. “He looks kinda pretty when he cries. Just like a little China doll. We should give him some tina, see what he does.”

 

 

“Lester, I’m getting a bit worried about the company you associate with.  Ain’t no one but faggots call it tina.” Kenny turns to gape at Todd.

 

“Well? What you waiting for, boy? I told you to get.”

 

Todd loses control of the situation pretty quickly after that and he shuffles out of the hangar in a funk. It’s hard trying to argue with his younger uncle. Todd doesn’t even really think of him as his uncle, on account of, Kenny didn’t grow up with Jack. Todd was already sixteen when he first met him. Kenny had a different mother than Jack’s, and they were quite a years apart in age. Plus, Kenny had gone to Iraq for two tours. He always had stories about the towelheads over there, always telling them about the weaponry he’d seen and worked with, telling Jack what were the best assault rifles to buy. Kenny can be pretty cool when he isn’t being a shithead. Still, he _is_ family. Jack had taken him in almost right away, as soon as Kenny started asking to join the gang. Uncle Jack listens to Kenny, too.  It had been a lot different for Todd.

 

Todd had been told he had to prove himself, first. He’d gotten the gig with Ira at Vamanos Pest, but it was boring there most of the time. Jack had told him it was a good way to hone his skills, and Kenny had chimed in, told him the importance of being real good at something, at making a contribution. Working with Mister White had only reinforced that idea. Todd _wants_ to be good at something, wants it with all his heart, and he wants his own cut of the business, but if it isn’t going to be in the manufacturing of the meth, he can just manage it.  He’ll be in charge of operations, just like Jack said he could be. Todd likes that even better. And that means, he can’t let Jesse go, ever, not with 96% purity under his belt.

 

So Todd settles for letting Kenny and Frankie and Lester watch Jesse for the remainder of the night. It won’t do any good to make Kenny mad. Jesse will just get the worst of it, he’s sure of that, and they’ve got a big order coming up. He needs Jesse healthy. Todd hopes they don’t play with him too hard.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When he walks into the Quonset hut in the morning, Todd can feel it right away. There’s something off in the air, something hovering in the dark patches where the light hasn’t hit yet, and it makes Todd antsy. He wishes he had brought his gun. He goes to the switch box and turns on the overheads.  The sound of them coming on is loud, echoes down the ceiling, but it’s all he hears.

 

“Jesse? You up, yet?”

 

When Todd rounds the finishing vat, he doesn’t see Jesse hanging on his track and Todd panics.  He’s just about to yell, but then he's taken two more steps and sees Jesse is lying on the table on the other side of the equipment. He swears into the silence, can’t believe Kenny and them were that stupid, but then he notices that Jesse doesn’t look quite right. His ankles and wrists are latched to the table legs and there’s something smeared down his legs. There’s also the fact that Jesse’s naked as a jaybird. When Todd gets closer, he can see that Jesse’s face is busted up and there are bruises already forming down one side of his body, yellowish and green. The thick rings peeking out from under the cuffs around Jesse’s ankles are black and dark blue, and Todd thinks those cuffs must be pretty tight. Or Jesse just fought really hard.

 

He stands next to Jesse sprawled out, sucks in his breath. They fucked him up bad. This is going to screw up the cook schedule, most definitely. Todd points out a finger to poke at Jesse, hoping that he’s still alive, and Jesse gives a feeble moan. Kenny and his boys surely outdid themselves. He tilts his head to one side so he can read it, sees _RAT_ carved there above Jesse’s ass and up the length of his back to between his shoulders, the letters underneath all the blood like something you’d see on a school chalkboard. He supposes it’s kind of poetic.

 

“Well, shit, what happened, Jesse?” he says loudly, trying to wake him up. “Why’d you let ‘em go and do that?” He can’t hide the disappointment in his voice.

 

This is a real fucking tragedy. He’s going to have to call Lydia and tell her they won’t make the drop on time. Maybe she’ll settle for fifty pounds if he can get Jesse up to speed in a day or two, but who knows how long it’s going to take just to clean up that mess on Jesse’s back. He swears aloud again, thinks about how he wouldn’t mind seeing Kenny’s head stuck on that fence outside.

 

This isn’t cool. Not cool at all.

 

 

 


	2. the twitchy nose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to celeryy for her valuable beta work.

_“Todd, I don’t think you’re fully able to see the problem, here, so let me explain it to you, in the most basic terms.”_

Lydia doesn’t look happy. She’s still wearing her sunglasses, the ones that take up half of her face, but if he were to guess, he’d say her eyes were pretty big right now. He knows he’s screwed up, but he patiently listens to her go through her business.

 

“Deadlines are there for a reason, Todd.  It’s a contract that you and I have entered into, and when one party can’t make the deadline, that contract is weakened. My _reputation_ is on the line, here. I have buyers who expect their shipment to arrive as I’ve promised them. So, when there’s a breakdown in that delivery, they’re not looking at you, Todd, they’re looking at _me,_ to provide explanations for this unacceptable turn of events. Can you even understand what my reputation means to me, Todd?”

 

“Yes, ma’am, I think I can, but—”

 

She holds up a hand to stop him from speaking. “No, I don’t think you do. It is _everything_ in this business. Fring,” –she drops her voice, looks around the café – “ _Fring_ was a good mentor, was a savvy businessman, but _I’m_ the one who really helped his operation grow, _I’m_ the one who was saddled with a – a _nightmare_ of epic proportions when he was … dispatched, but I dealt with it, maneuvered our latest collaborator into the direction we needed to go. And I can’t have anything sullying my name, right now. Are you hearing me, Todd? Am I making myself perfectly clear on this?”

 

“Yes, ma’am. But it wasn’t exactly a situation—”

 

She flashes him her palm again and he notices the bracelet that jingles every time she does it. It’s got little stones on it that look like eyes. She shakes her head with disappointment as she reaches for another packet of Stevia.

 

“What I need from _you_ are assurances. Assurances that we won’t have this issue again. It’s not good management, Todd. I mean, am I going to have to give you a lesson on how to fulfill your end of the deal? I thought the whole point of Pinkman was to give you added labor. Now, while the quality has most obviously skyrocketed –” she stops, puts a hand on his, making him feel tingly where she’s touching him. Her voice softens. “Which is _great_ , I really appreciate your strides in that area, Todd – but one of the intended goals of that has come to fruition. We are in high demand. Our product’s sales are trending at least a third over what we were reaping with our previous partner. That is _good news_ for us, Todd. But my buyers need _more._ They don’t want the streets drying up before we can deliver the next load of barrels.” She takes off her glasses and snaps the frames closed with one grip. “So tell me, is this going to be a problem, moving forward?”

 

Todd sighs. He knew she would be upset, but it couldn’t be helped. He thinks about the latest setback; how it had taken him till afternoon to calm Jesse down, bandage his blisters. They missed a day and a half of production. Todd couldn’t even give it a try because he was so busy fixing Jesse.

 

“I think – I mean, I’d like to say no, Miss Lydia. But it’s – it’s not just up to me, you see. We’re, uh, having some … complications, I guess, with,” he blushes, feels like a snitch for bringing Kenny up. “Other members of my crew. They like to … you know, play around. Get rough. And Pinkman – I think he may be, like, one of them,” and he bends his head to whisper, too, liking the way Lydia is hunched over in rapt attention. “Um, them _bisexuals?_ But whatever happens, I keep finding him in the morning, and he’s … he can’t always do the work. I mean, I’d make him if he was able, but he’s _really_ not able.”

 

Lydia’s eyebrows are knitted so close together it makes them look like raven wings, the space between them scrunched up like the head, her wrinkled lines making a beak. He thinks she’s not following, but then she’s shaking her head again with a lot of force.

 

“Wait, wait, wait, what are you talking about, Todd? What … _playing_ are you referring to? How is this explanation or … Pinkman’s supposed proclivities preventing him from the work?”

 

“Well, it’s like the other morning. He had, uh … well, he had some burns on his body? Like, across his chest. They were pretty nasty, I guess, and he kept screaming every time I tried to move him. You know, it wasn’t easy, to get him settled, ‘cause I know my uncle doesn’t really want him there, but Uncle Jack _knows_ it’s important, I mean, don’t get me wrong. He … he just doesn’t wanna hear him.” Lydia’s expression hasn’t changed.

 

“Plus, I had to go and drive out pretty far to find a good drugstore. I was looking on the Internet for what to do, and there were all these creams I should use, but not all of them are over the counter. And … I didn’t really want to leave Pinkman alone for too long. I don’t know what else they do with him, but … I’m thinking they may be keeping him somewhere all night? I may have to start checking the cameras, see where they go.”

 

It feels good to tell her these things. He hasn’t really had anyone else to confide in, and Lydia and Todd are partners, after all. He has to be honest with her about his side of the business, and she’s so smart, she could probably help him figure out what to do.

 

But Lydia doesn’t look like she’s got any ideas at the moment. In fact, she looks kind of like Mrs. Saputo, his old teacher. Her lips are pulled back so he can see her teeth and her face looks like she just smelled something really bad. It’s a face Todd is familiar with. Sometimes, his mom had worn that face, but mostly it makes him think of Mrs. Saputo and the rabbit he got for summer right before third grade.

 

It was one of his mom’s boyfriends who’d given it to him – Todd can’t remember the guy’s name, Mom’s boyfriends kind of all blended into one over the years. Sometimes, they’d also be her dealer. But one of them had a farm, and he would grow bunnies for the mammoth python he kept. He had let Todd touch the python, and that had been cool, but it had been even nicer getting the rabbit to take home. He had liked that rabbit a lot. It had the softest fur he had ever felt, and a nose that twitched all the time, like it was smelling so much stuff that it was making it crazy. He looks at Lydia’s nose, the way her nostrils are flared, and thinks she kind of twitches like that rabbit, too. Maybe that had been the problem; that Rabbit had been nervous like Lydia, and that’s why Todd could never get it to stay still. He had held it one night, took it from its cage and brought it to his bed, and just tried to make it stay still for one gosh darned second. He squeezed and he squeezed, until he had heard a snap, like with the wishbone from a turkey, and then Rabbit didn’t move at all.

 

Todd had put it back in his cage, had forgotten about it, so that he started dropping his dirty clothes on the top of the mesh until they had covered the whole thing. He had come home one day to hear his mom screeching from his room. She raised holy hell about the smell, too.

 

And then he’d gone back to school and Mrs. Saputo had asked them to draw a picture. She told them to draw something that they loved, but Todd had had a real hard time trying to think of something, until he thought about the way Rabbit had felt in his hands. How soft and delicate, and how even those ruby eyes that looked like the marbles he played with made him smile. So he had drawn a picture of Rabbit, but he had drawn him the way he had last seen him. When he’d handed it to Mrs. Saputo, she’d made that face, the one that Lydia is still wearing, and a few weeks later, he’d been moved to a new class.

 

Lydia finally moves, looks away from him like someone just called her name. She holds up her hands again.

 

“Wow. I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear any of that. But this is a problem, Todd. I mean, my God, I’d rather not be the one to have to address this with Welker, or any of his _associates_ , but something is going to have to be done about this. I’m … I’m going to leave this in your hands, I mean,” and she starts fiddling with her purse, scrounging around for something inside like she’s digging up dirt, “ _Jesus,_ what were you even thinking, dealing with these … rapists and, _Christ,_ Lydia.” She says it low while staring into her purse, like she thinks he can’t hear her, like maybe he’s not even there. He puckers his mouth, tries to think of something to say that won’t make her mad, will make her believe he’ll come up with something to figure it out.

 

“I can, maybe … I’ll try and talk to Kenny. See if he’ll lay off, some. Maybe we can come to a … you know, an agreement? I want to make sure we can get the batch done on time, Miss Lydia, much as you do. I’ll … I’ll work it out. Sorry for bothering you with this.”

 

Todd lets her leave first, like he always does, and she stomps across the floor like she’s trying to get out of there fast, a bright shade of red flashing from the bottoms of her shoes with every step. He looks down at his barely touched coffee, thinks about the Pinkman problem again, knowing that his solution to Lydia is a lie. Uncle Jack wouldn’t like it if he got into a bad way with Kenny. Todd sighs again, a long one that’s like a thought more than a breath. He can’t let Lydia down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“But there isn’t time to get another batch done before I got to pack it up. Not unless we pull an all-nighter.”

 

“Well, that’s what I’m saying, Todd. Let’s just work through the night, until we fill the order. We’re still ten pounds light, man. I mean, you said she was getting pissed about the late deliveries, so … you got to show her you mean it, that you know how to take care of business, Jack. You know, your word is your bond, right?”

 

“I guess. But isn’t that gonna be rough? You think you can still hit a ninety six percent?”

 

“Dude, we _make_ the perfect product for this. I just need a taste, and I’ll go as long as you want.”

 

They’re both working on the cook, on account of Lydia’s big order. Todd likes to add the aluminum, like he’s throwing confetti in a parade, except that these strips sparkle as they catch the light. Jesse is fluttering around him, working really quickly, and talking to him like he can’t get the words out of his mouth fast enough. He turns to Todd, his leash taut as he steps as close as he can to the vessel. The cable comes rushing along on its track, catches up to him, and makes Jesse stumble a bit when it hits him in the back. He lifts up his mask, lets it sit on his head. Jesse’s eye is still black around the sides and on top of his cheek from the shiner he got the night before. Or Todd assumes that’s when it happened, since it was there when he woke Jesse up. He’d been naked again. It was becoming a thing. They had ripped up Todd’s favorite shirt, too, left the scraps on the floor. From up on his stepladder, Todd can see the weird indentations on Jesse’s chin and along his jaw, like teeth marks.

 

“What about … what about if Kenny and them come in here again, like they did before?” Todd comes down and leaves the tub on the work table.

 

Jesse’s eyes get big like the way they do whenever he mentions Kenny’s name, but the black dots inside them are huge, making them look dark blue.  His jaw works back and forth before he answers.

 

“Well … _Todd_. I think you … need to think about your business. Right? I mean, _you’re_ in charge here, not … Kenny. I thought you said your uncle was leaving all this up to you? What’s he got to say about Kenny? You think he’s going to put up with the … you know, _interruption_ to production? I can’t do shit if Lester keeps breaking bones. Just … stand up, dude. I mean, this is _your business.”_ He snorts and rubs at his nose, the way Todd’s mom used to do all the time.

 

“Did they give you that shit?” he says to Jesse, knowing he’ll understand what he’s asking.

 

Jesse’s eyes get kind of crazy again. He’s good at that look. “Uh, what do you think, man?” he replies with heavy breaths, his leg jittery as he stands there scratching at his chest. The bandages are gone, Todd knows, but Jesse can’t leave the scabs alone.

 

“I think that’s probably not a good idea. On account of you’re an addict and all. Mister White told me you’d had lots of problems with drugs. It fucked my Mom up, too, but she OD’d. I stayed with Uncle Jack after that.”

 

“Did you stay with Kenny, too?” Jesse asks, his eyes darting around the room like pinballs.

 

“Nah, Kenny lived somewhere else. It’s why he doesn’t listen to me. He’s family, but he’s not like, _family._ Except, Jack trusts him. He’s like, his Spock, and all.”

 

“Yeah,” says Jesse, his voice scratchy and hollow. “Got it.” He goes to check the gauge, talks to Todd with his back to him. “So … your uncle and Kenny … they’re pretty close, then?”

 

“Why’re you asking?”

 

Jesse turns, his face looking like he just got a surprise. “No… no reason. Just … you know, thinking. I mean, sometimes family can … fuck up. And if you … care about them, you got to set ‘em straight, you know?  That’s what my family did. Turned me out, cut ties. You know, ‘cause I was a bad person. But, I was messing with their lives, and … that shit wasn’t right.”

 

Todd thinks about what Jesse is really trying to say. But he just can’t see it turning out well, having a direct confrontation with Kenny, or any of his boys. He thinks that maybe Lydia would be really disappointed with this line of thought, but then … he thinks about how Mister White would handle it. Mister White would be like a scientist, gather information first. He remembers that he needs to look at the camera footage from the last week. Thinks he might start staying up late and staking out Jesse’s cell.

 

But for tonight, Jesse’s plan actually sounds solid. He’ll make Lydia happy and maybe get Jesse a night without any more wounds or bruises that Todd will have to clean in the morning. He’ll bring it up at dinner, with Uncle Jack right there. That way he can watch how Kenny reacts, might have a heads up on whatever the three might do. He nods, as if Mister White is the one telling him this and Todd agrees wholeheartedly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After dinner, he ambles back to the hangar, sees Jesse standing at the table with his rubber apron. “Hey, I brought you some Country Peach Cobbler ice cream. Uncle Jack is a big Willie Nelson fan, but I snuck this out for you.”

 

Jesse is breaking ice, the cracks along the sheet of blue spreading fast. He starts to use the putty knife to scrape it to one end. He doesn’t seem to notice Todd standing next to him, the ice cream already melting.

 

Todd puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Jesse. Let’s take a break, okay?” But Jesse retracts from his touch, looks at him like he’s just seeing him.

 

“What?”

 

Todd doesn’t see that crazy light in Jesse’s eyes anymore and tries not to take it too hard. They’ve still got a lot of work to do if they’re going to fill Lydia’s buyers' demand. He doesn’t really want to give Jesse more of the blue he’s been making, not with the quality Jesse makes. Todd wonders if he’s going to have to start watching him on the final phase, make sure Jesse doesn’t help himself.

 

“Looks like we’re good for tonight. Kenny and Frankie went out for some drinkin’. They’ll be gone till the bars close, at least. Let’s get this shit done.”

 

Jesse’s moving pretty slow, though, and a few times, Todd has to step in to keep Jesse from falling into the tank as he adds the alkaline. It’s kind of worrisome, like Jesse doesn’t really give a shit what happens to him. Todd unhooks him from his runner, brings him over to the diffuser and lets him sit down, but makes sure to hook the chain connecting his wrists around the latch on the connector. He hands Jesse his ice cream, and Jesse takes it listlessly, staring at it with not much expression at all.

 

“I could get you something else if you want. Maybe a Coke? It’s gonna be a long night.”

 

Jesse plays with his spoon, stirs it around the bowl, making the ice cream get soupier. Todd reaches out, presses Jesse’s elbow up a few times. Jesse gets the idea and puts a spoonful of the treat into his mouth. It takes him a little bit, he holds it there in his cheeks, before Todd can see him swallow, but he’s glad that Jesse is eating. He tries to think of something to say to get Jesse back to the motor mouth he was earlier in the day.

 

“Hey, you ever been in Mister White’s house? It was kind of weird to see it. I thought it’d be bigger, for some reason. You been inside there, Jesse?”

 

There’s a spark, there, when Jesse looks at him, meets his eyes in that intense way that Jesse seems to be really good at. He doesn’t say anything, but nods his head, real slow.

 

“Yeah, I didn’t get a tour or nothing, but we came through the glass door in back when Mrs. White was in the bathroom.  It was kind of cool to see her, though. You know, hearing about her from Mister White, and then, there she was. She seemed like a nice lady. A good mom to her kids.”

 

Jesse’s eyes go back to being saucer sized. He swallows again, like it hurts him to do it.

 

“You … you didn’t hurt her, did you?”

 

Todd shakes his head, wants to convince Jesse that it was never the plan. “No, we didn’t touch her, Jesse. She’s doing what she was told. Not like you.”

 

Jesse looks down at his bowl, seems sad again. Todd tries another subject.

 

“Your girlfriend, though? She was real pretty. I keep meaning to tell you that. Some of them Latino girls are kind of slutty looking, but not yours. It was a real waste, pretty girl like that. Her hair looked super soft.” He puts his hand to his coat pocket, fingering the top of his cigarette pack, but then realizes where he is, remembers the warnings Mister White gave him. “But … well, you know what they say.” He remembers the last time he tried to put things into perspective for Jesse and leaves it at that. _Hey, shit happens, huh?_

 

Jesse is so still that Todd starts to think he may have fallen asleep with his eyes open. But no, as soon as Todd leans towards him to prod him, Jesse reels back, bending his back in a weird way so that Todd can’t touch him. He won’t look at Todd, stares at the floor like there’s something there he’ll never understand.

 

Todd recalls something Kenny said once, and it makes him grin, but it’s kind of embarrassing to say out loud. “Hey, Jesse, I heard them Spic girls like to take it in the butt? Is that true?” He always wanted to try that. But maybe Andrea wasn’t that kind of girl, he thinks, when Jesse closes his eyes tight. He wonders about Lydia, wonders what she likes. “Yours was real pretty, though,” he repeats. “You think Lydia would like that? She seems like she’d want it all fancy.”

 

He doesn’t get a response, and now Todd really wishes he had that cigarette. He points to Jesse’s ice cream, or the liquid remains of it. “You should finish up your dessert.” Todd imagines what Jesse was like with the Mexican girl. He was probably really cool, kissed her like a real pro. Jesse probably had lots of pretty girlfriends. He’s the type they would like, with those eyes of his, and the way he licks his lips, sometimes, when Todd is watching him get the cook ready. He thinks about the name Mister White mentioned in the desert, how it had gotten Jesse so sad.

 

“I bet you had lots of girlfriends, huh?” he tries. Jesse’s lips start to move, his head bent, but nothing’s coming out, like he’s talking to himself. Todd leans over to hear him, but it’s just whispery breaths of numbers, counting backwards. Jesse’s lost in his own world, so Todd thinks he might as well go for it.

 

“Who’s Jane, Jesse?”

 

 _That_ gets a reaction.

 

“Don’t you fucking talk about her,” Jesse snarls.

 

Now Todd is really curious. “Well, damn, Jesse, no need to get like that. I was just asking ‘cause of what Mister White said about her.”

 

“I don’t want to hear him about, either,” Jesse tells him through clenched teeth, closing his eyes again.

 

“How come you keep getting mad about Mister White, every time I say his name? I mean, I know he wanted us to kill you, and all, but the man did a lot for you. I know he really liked you a lot. I used to wish Mister White liked _me_ as much as he liked working with you. I kind of felt bad for him out there after Uncle Jack put down that cop.”

 

Todd makes a sucking sound in the side of his cheek. “Seems like Mister White had good cause to hate you, though, what with you ratting on him, and then getting his brother-in-law killed. Why are you so angry with _him_? Was it ‘cause of that other girl?”

 

Jesse listens to him as he speaks, gets a cold look on his face.

 

“He’s a liar, and a fake,” Jesse says, the accusation snaking out of him like one long word. “He doesn’t care about anyone, doesn’t care who he hurts.”

 

It doesn’t make sense to Todd, to hear such talk. Mister White made some mistakes, but Todd knows that he cares a lot about a lot of people.

 

“That’s not true. He cares about his family. He even cared about the brother-in-law that was getting ready to arrest him. I mean, that’s some crazy shit, right there. He even cared about that kid on the bike.”

 

Jesse bolts up right on his seat like a rubber band snapping back, pulls his hands so that the chain makes a clinking sound against the metal. “What the hell did you just say?”

 

“You know, that kid? The one who saw us? Mister White got super sad about him.”

 

“You’re fucking bullshitting me. He didn’t give a shit about that kid. That isn’t fucking funny.”

 

But Todd is confused. “It ain’t no joke, Jesse. After we had him in the barrel? Mister White wanted me to pour the acid, cause he didn’t want to do it, and it didn’t take no time at all before the kid’s clothes were smoking and just eating away. That’s like, so wild, every time I see it. But then the clothes were gone and it started to get red in there and Mister White made me put the lid on, as soon as I had emptied all the bottles.” It had been a two-hander for him, since Mike didn’t want to touch the kid, either. “And then, you know, Mister White was walking away to the corner, pulling off his mask, and his shoulders were hunched over. I could hear him crying. Then it was like, when you turn the tv off, and whatever you were listening to just stops. Mister White was back to business after that, but he stayed pretty quiet till we got to the offi—”

 

Todd stops, is watching Jesse trying to put his hands over his face, but the chain isn’t long enough. Jesse is bent over, is pulling up his legs like he’s trying to roll up in a ball. His body starts to shake, and Todd thinks it might be from the meth.

 

“Hey, Jesse …”

 

But Jesse starts roaring, like he’s gonna attack something, then drops his head. Long keening sounds come out of him as his shoulders heave up and down. He’s rocking back and forth and Todd isn’t sure what to do. They’ve still got a whole night of cooking.

 

He sighs deeply, thinks that now might a good time for his cigarette. Todd keeps saying the wrong thing around Jesse, and he doesn’t mean to. He thinks that maybe he should just let Jesse snort some glass, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Todd walks the pavement leading towards Jesse’s pit. He can see the tarp lift a little from the wind, like waves on the ocean. He’d heard Lester bellowing all the way from his room, had to get up to see what was going on. He hadn’t been asleep, anyway, just enjoying a smoke while trying to figure out the Pinkman Problem.

 

He looks around when he makes it to the grate, checks the area to see if Kenny or Lester are still hanging around. It’s quiet down below. Todd hears the whip and crackle of the tarp being manipulated by the breeze again. He bends down and pulls it away, peers inside the blackness.

 

“Jesse? You doing okay in there?”

 

Todd hears him then, a few faint whimpers. He unlocks the top, pulls it up, and then goes to get the ladder nearby.

 

When he’s on the ground, he sees Jesse’s not on his mattress, but somewhere in the corner, curled up. There’s light shining down from the lamps on the ground floor, but Todd snaps on a flashlight. He finds the switch for the heater grill he installed, in the roof of the cell. Orange bands start to fade into being from overhead. He takes a few steps toward Jesse, gets a tight little fist in his belly as he sees Jesse’s naked back. The weather’s getting colder and Kenny and the boys are only going to get Jesse sick if they keep leaving him like this.

 

Todd kneels down on his haunches when he gets close, can see that Jesse is shaking pretty hard. Todd looks around to see what happened to the blanket he left down here, but then Jesse starts to spasm. He puts his hand to Jesse’s shoulder, rolls him on his back, but then it gets worse. The spasm turns to shudders, and Jesse’s got a crazy look on his face as his body keeps jerking, like he isn’t even aware he’s doing it. Todd tries to hold Jesse still and Jesse’s shuddering gets really fast, like that time he saw Uncle Jack use a stun gun on some asshole complaining about their tattoos.

 

“Hey, Jesse, easy there. What’s going on, buddy?” He’s feeling a little concerned. Todd thinks that he might need to bring his computer down in the cell, might need to go back to that medical site.

 

Jesse’s making strange grunting noises in the back of his throat, but his body now jerks in measured, slow takes. Todd tries to pick him up, wants to get him back to his mattress, and that’s when Jesse pukes, as soon as Todd’s lifted his head off the ground.

 

“Shit! Man, Jesse, this is gonna stink up the place like hell. Now I gotta I clean you up.”

 

But he brings Jesse to the mattress, lays him down where he’s got better light. Jesse doesn’t weigh a whole lot, and it occurs to Todd that he kind of likes holding him. Jesse shivering and twitching in his arms makes him think about the rabbit. When Jesse’s on the ground, Todd looks around the room again, sees the toilet paper roll in the corner. He wipes Jesse’s face, grabs the chunks of regurgitated hamburger off of Jesse’s chest, and thinks again that Jesse’s eyes look crazier than usual.

 

There’s blood seeping onto the bottom of Todd’s tee-shirt, and he looks down to see that it’s coming from Jesse’s leg. There’s a deep wound there, a dark red line that bubbles. He’s seen these before, had to stitch a few of them up that bled like hell. They’re never very big, and they never appear together, but all over Jesse’s body, in random places. He unrolls more toilet paper, presses the wad to Jesse’s thigh, really close to his junk. It makes Todd a little uneasy having his hand so near it. But as he presses, he sees more marks around Jesse’s groin – dark, black smudges that make strange circles.

 

Todd pokes a finger to one of them, and Jesse shouts, tries to fold himself up, like when you poke a slug with a stick. He thinks the smudges remind him of cigarette burns, at first. Todd knows a lot about those. But these circles are quarter-sized, at least, and there’s no cigarette that big around. Jesse’s skin is hot, too, like he’s burning up. He looks up through the square exit, sees the sky littered with the stars. Todd will have to go get his bandages and first aid kit. Find some more clothes for Jesse to wear. At this rate, he’s going to have to go shopping to keep Jesse dressed. He remembers finding a pair of jeans in the showers last week, wonders who left them there.

 

“Jesse, I’m gonna be back in a minute. We’ll get you fixed up, like always. Give you some aspirin. You’ll feel better soon, I promise.” Todd puts his hand on Jesse’s shoulder and strokes him there. Jesse’s skin is soft like a girl’s. He rubs Jesse’s arm, feels the hair there all silky as Todd’s fingers travel down the length of it. Todd breathes in deep, sees Jesse’s eyes are closed and then reaches out to brush Jesse’s hair back off his forehead. Jesse’s hair is soft, too. Really soft, considering it’s still kind of dirty. He remembers looking at the back of Jesse’s head once, when they were getting ready for the train to show up, and how he had thought that Jesse’s shaved head was like no one else’s, that instead of a buzz cut or a cue ball that looked prickly or glaring on other men, Jesse looked like his head was covered in down, like peach fuzz, made Todd want to reach out and brush his fingers along the back of Jesse’s skull.  But Jesse looks good with hair, too. It’s getting longer, and Todd likes that. Feels the passage of time on Jesse’s head.

 

At first he thinks the shuddering is back when Jesse starts to tremble under his hand. Then he hears it, the soft intakes of breath and then a harsh sob as Jesse breaks down. Jesse cries like no one else, either. It always makes Todd feel a lot of different things, things that he doesn’t have a name for.

 

“Hey, Jesse. It’ll be alright.” He doesn’t know what else to say, so he just keeps stroking Jesse, picks up his head and shifts him to Todd’s lap, running his hands up and down Jesse’s back until Jesse quiets down, hears him strangle his sobs in this throat until the crying stops altogether.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Todd drops his cigarette on the ground, smears it with his boot, and then comes out from his hiding place and starts heading to the building next to the clubhouse. He can still see Kenny and the others up ahead, Frankie and Lester dragging Jesse between them, not even bothering to let Jesse try and walk with his ankles in chains. They open the door on the side and disappear. Todd thinks they’re going to the showers again.

 

He waits outside the door for a long while, wants to make sure he doesn’t get caught.  Kenny has been super obnoxious lately, makes fun of Todd whenever Uncle Jack is out of earshot. It’s like he knows that Todd wants him to leave Jesse alone, and he purposely goads him to get Todd to say it out loud.

 

“Your little girlfriend, she sure is a wild one,” Kenny hisses to him in the clubhouse, right in his ear, while the rest of them are watching the fight on the big screen, the men shouting over each other. “Almost too much for me and my boys to handle. You gonna get some of that hole, Toddy?”

 

Todd had walked away then, had gone outside for a smoke and to hang around Jesse’s grate. Jesse had seemed better, had been asking Todd lots of questions about his family again. But they had missed some time, earlier in the week, on account of Jesse being sick, and it’s going to be a tight schedule to get the remainder of the order together. Todd needs to come up with some sort of solution for these delays before he meets with Lydia again.

 

He sucks in his breath and then pulls the door open, slips inside. Todd hasn’t gone very far down the hall before he can hear them, the voices echoing from the adjoining room. There’s a sound of water spraying and hitting tiles: he thinks they must be cleaning Jesse up. Except then he hears a shout, but it’s cut off, the sound of laughter trailing from the chamber like hyenas.

 

“C’mon, boy! Take it, take that fucker! Take it all the way down!” he hears Frankie yell, like he’s having a good old time. He hears the men raise their voices in unison, the way they do when someone’s chugging down a Jägermeister.

 

“God _damn,_ son! You good at something else besides making blue, huh?” Kenny sounds impressed.

 

Todd creeps closer, winds his way into the locker room, staying flat against the walls. He inches forward until he’s at the open entrance into the showers. Todd tries not to breathe, his heart racing. It’s a wild feeling, not something that happens often, and he puts his hand on his chest to feel the _thump, thump, thump_ like something’s trying to get out. The last time his heartbeat pumped like this was when he’d been on top of that train, feeling it start to move underneath him. That had been exciting, had been fun to run up the hill with Jesse right next to him, but this is different. This time, Todd isn’t sure if he wants to keep going.

 

He moves just a little bit, and tilts his head just a fraction. He can see them, in the corner, but the angle gives him cover. They’re too busy to notice him, anyway. Todd sees Jesse on the floor, on his knees, and his head is buried in Kenny’s crotch, Kenny’s hand on his neck, the other pressing on Jesse’s head. He and Kenny are both naked and Todd can see the veins in Kenny’s arm stand out, sees his mouth twist under that moustache into something between a smile and a sneer.

 

“ _Hold_ it. Hold it, darlin’. Open up, come on.”

Kenny finally lets go and Jesse rears his head back with a giant wheeze of breath, puts his hands in front of his face as his head twists left and right. Frankie is behind Jesse, slaps him on the back of his head, and Jesse dry heaves a few times, leaves his mouth open as the spit drips from it, some of it dangling from his lips like the way the blue comes out of the diffuser, in viscous streams.

 

“Hell’s bells, boy, you sure are a spitter, ain’t you? Don’t you want us to fill you up? Hmm? Gonna fill up that belly, get it nice and round.” Kenny bends down to slap at Jesse’s stomach. “Load it up with jizz, just like you want. Ain’t that right, Pinkman?”

 

Jesse doesn’t say anything, but then Frankie grabs him by the hair, yanks his head back.

 

“Uhnng, yeah, yeah, okay. You—you—you know how I—I like it.”

 

Kenny starts to laugh and the others follow. “That don’t sound too convincing, Pinkman.”

 

Lester leans over Jesse from behind him, still dressed but his pants open at the fly. He puts his hands to Jesse’s jaw, on either side of his face, and tips Jesse’s head back so that they’re looking into each other’s eyes.

 

“C’mon, punk. Let’s hear you say it.”

 

Jesse starts to breathe heavy, swings his body around so that he’s facing all three of them, his hands out towards Lester like he’s getting ready for a bum rush.

 

“Hey, hey, you – you know I can do better. Just let me … you know, just let me do it on my own. I’ll make it real it good for you guys.” Jesse tries to smile, but his eyes are opened up like those dolls in the cheap dollar stores, and the smile looks pretty lame, like Jesse might just get sick any minute.

 

“I—I –I – I just … just…”

 

“Aye-aye-aye. Doh, dee, doh,” Kenny taunts, like he’s retarded. “You sound like my little nephew, ol’ shit for brains. You gonna get it out sometime today, Pinkman?”

 

“Just let me, you know, take care of you. Without … without holding my head like that. I promise, I _promise,_ you’ll like it better. I can take it the way you want, if – if you let me.” Jesse looks up at Kenny with his eyes like a doe, all wet and soft, just like the way girls look at you when they want something. “I’ll make it real good for you.”

 

Kenny smirks at him. “I don’t know, boy. I got, what they call, _high_ expectations. You gonna give us a good show tonight? Hmm? You gonna do that for me? No more _whining_ and crying—”

 

“I told you, Kenny, they like the crying,” Lester interrupts. “Got to keep that in.”

 

Kenny inhales sharply, puts his hand on Jesse’s cheek. He rubs it there and then puts a finger to Jesse’s lips, brushing the top, but then pushes his finger in between them. Jesse opens his mouth, and Kenny slides two of his fingers in, saws them in and out, while Jesse closes his eyes, sucks on them so that his head is bobbing back and forth. Kenny pulls them out fast, and then slaps Jesse hard.

 

“Fucking faggot.”

 

He slaps Jesse again, on the other side of his face, and Jesse stays like that, looking off somewhere else.

 

“What? That’s all you got? You gonna stay a pussy your whole stinking life, Pinkman?”

 

Kenny slaps Jesse again, so hard that Jesse’s head snaps back on his neck and Todd can almost feel the sting burning on Jesse’s skin. Kenny keeps slapping him, back and forth, until Jesse’s trying to put up his hands to protect himself, but Kenny grabs Jesse’s hair and tugs, starts giving him open palmed slaps to the left side of his face so that they come fast and sharp, the sound echoing in the room like the bullets in the desert. Jesse starts screaming, howls in rage behind his teeth as he smacks at Kenny’s arm.

 

The men get excited again, their faces lighting up.

 

“Oh, here we go! That’s what I’m talking about! Right there, that’s what we want. Little spitfire, ain’t you, sugar? Gotta give me some _life._ I was about to fall asleep from fucking boredom!”

 

Kenny hasn’t let go of Jesse’s hair. “Now, you wanna try that again? Maybe try and sell it this time, Pinkman.”

 

Jesse’s staring straight ahead, with eyes still wide, but like he’s getting himself ready. He’s breathing so hard, Todd can see his chest moving up and down. He wonders what Jesse’s going to do; he’s looking so intense right now. But then, suddenly, Jesse’s eyes get _really_ big and they’re not just looking at nothing, they’re look right at _Todd._ And Todd watches Jesse’s expression change, watches as Jesse’s lips pull back, exposing his teeth, and something hateful and mean blow up into those pupils.

 

Todd steps away then, turns forward so that his back is pressed against the wall. His heart starts another gallop. Todd knows that Jesse is pretty angry with him right now. He hears Kenny talking.

 

“Get the prod, Frankie.”

 

“No! No! No, you don’t have to do that! Don’t! Please! I promise to do better!”

 

Todd tiptoes away, knows he needs to get out in a hurry, but then starts walking normally, really fast, when Jesse’s screams drown out all other noise.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So … I got to go out of town tomorrow. Me and Uncle Jack and some of the other boys … it’s kind of an important meeting.”

 

He and Jesse are cleaning out the tanks, but Todd has cut off the power hose, so that Jesse can hear him. Jesse doesn’t even look up from his side of the vessel, uses the scrubbing brush like he’s trying to take off a layer of the metal.

 

“Jesse, did you hear me?”

 

“Yeah, I fucking heard you, Todd. What do you want, fucking applause?”

 

Todd tries not to get bothered by Jesse’s tone. He’s been mad at Todd for the last three days, ever since that night in the showers. They don’t talk about it, but Todd finds Jesse looking at him sometimes like he’s having lots of bad thoughts behind his eyes. Todd realizes he wasn’t much of a help, but he wishes that Jesse would just get over it already. He got Uncle Jack to send Kenny and them to the pickup in Phoenix. That ought to count for something. It’s been three whole days without anyone messing with Jesse.

 

“Well, I just wanted you to know, is all. Kenny will be back with Lester and Frankie later today, they said. It’ll just be you and … you know, the three of them while we’re in Los Alamos. At least till we get back around the start of the fight. Uncle Jack doesn’t want to miss that. Just thought you should know.”

 

If there had been a way to get out of the meeting, then Todd would have taken it, but this was Uncle Jack showing Todd that he’d been doing really well, and now he was part of negotiations with the big guys. Feeling Uncle Jack’s respect had been huge, and there was no way he’d be willing to step out. He just wished it hadn’t coincided with the day that Kenny was coming back.

 

“Gee, thanks so much for the advance notice. Maybe I’ll have time for a manicure before they get here. Get myself all dolled up, huh?” Jesse says it like he’s poking fun at Todd, his voice flat and dull, but his sarcasm _is_ kind of funny.

 

“Maybe you should … you know … not be so …” Todd isn’t sure what he’s trying to say, but he thinks that Jesse gives the men too many ideas just by being Jesse.

 

Jesse freezes, stares into Todd like he’s going to push something into his head just by thinking it.

 

“Not be so, _what_? Todd?”

 

Todd tries not to blush, but it’s hard to put into words without sounding queer. “You know. You got a face that makes guys want to do something to it. It would help if your eyes … well, I just think you should try and tone it down. You’re like a girl, sometimes.”

 

Jesse’s laugh is low and dangerous, making Todd glance up sharply.

 

“And what would you know about girls, Todd?”

 

The question confuses Todd for a moment. He knows as much as any other guy, he supposes, and says as much.

 

“Just that … you know, you got to read their signals. And some signals tell you that they want it.”

 

Jesse is concentrating on Todd very hard, like what Todd is saying is really important.

 

“Mmhmm. And what kind of signals are we talking, Todd?”

 

“Well, you know. You been with girls, Jesse. It’s mostly in their eyes. Like, they might say one thing, but their eyes tell you another. Uncle Jack says most women don’t know what they want, that you got to show ‘em, first.”

 

Jesse looks really fascinated by that explanation. “Yeah? Really? So, I guess, when … girls tell you to get off of them … that’s their _signal_ that says, _go for it._ Is that how it works?”

 

It seems like Jesse is acting stupid to prove something, but Todd isn’t sure what it is. Todd’s mostly been with whores, anyway, so it’s not like that shit wasn’t figured out in advance.

 

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe, not always. Why? Isn’t that how you figure them out?” Neither one of them are doing any cleaning now, and Todd feels like there’s a charge in the air, zipping along the cables.

 

“So, that means, in _your_ world, I’m sending out some sort of message through my eyes that says, sure, go ahead and fuck me. That I was _asking_ for all those things that they’ve been doing to me? I mean … Todd, let’s be real, here. You’ve been spending a lot of time on the Internet working on your EMT skills. You think I _wanted_ Lester to break my hand?”

 

“Well … I mean, sure, they get carried away, but that’s how them guys are. I told you about Kenny’s stories from Baghdad.”

 

“So … what do you suggest, then? I close my eyes? Maybe you can get me some big-ass sunglasses for me to wear, to shield my _dazzle_ from them. Stop ‘em from going into such a wild frenzy, maybe, you know, on account of I can’t help myself.”

 

Todd frowns, the image making him think of Lydia. Jesse’s starting to act like a real asshole and it’s making Todd wish he would shut up.

 

“Shit, Jesse, you don’t have to be a jerk about it. I was just trying to help you out. Maybe you should just get back to work.”

 

But Jesse is still studying him like Todd’s some sort of science experiment. Todd gets ready to turn the power washer back on, but then stops and gapes at Jesse, wondering what the hell is wrong with him today.

 

“Did you like watching, Todd? The other night? Did you like seeing that?”

 

Todd gets that slithering feeling in his belly, feels his face grow hot.

 

“No. I ain’t no queer.”

 

“What about Kenny? Do you think Kenny’s queer? I mean, that’s got to be weird, right? Him being _family_ and all.”

 

“I don’t really think about it. Kenny’s one of them boys that likes to stick it wherever there’s a hole, like my Momma used to say. He says Hitler’s guys used to do things to the queers in the camps, too. Like they were testing them out.”

 

There’s no reaction, at first, Jesse just stares at him in a daze. Then he drops his eyes to stare down in the tank, puts a hand over them and rubs at his eyelids.

 

“You know that Kenny doesn’t respect you, right? Makes jokes about you all the time. Calls you the Dog-Faced Boy.”

 

Todd doesn’t know what to say to that. Jesse lets out a breath, shaky and long, making a whistling sound. Todd thinks that maybe it’s because Kenny hasn’t been giving Jesse any meth since he’s been gone, that that’s why Jesse is full of piss and vinegar. Jesse finally looks at Todd, and his face looks tired.

 

“So, when’s this fight start?”

 

 

 


	3. that soft fur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, **celeryy** , who is all kinds of awesome.
> 
> You may have noticed that the chapter count has expanded. I am unable to do short and sweet, sorry.

 

 

“Well, then Uncle Jack just told him right there, said if he ever sees Kenny, or Lester or any of them messing with you like that again, that they’re out. Said he wouldn’t be standing for no perversions like that under his roof, and how it wasn’t natural, and what the hell was wrong with Kenny. Man, I ain’t never seen Uncle Jack that mad.”

 

                Todd still can’t get over it. Coming back from his trip in Matt’s truck, he had worried what he would find when they got in the gate. Kenny and his boys having Jesse all to themselves was no good, and Todd knew that, but he had to believe that Jesse would be alright, for the most part. That maybe they’d just stick to playing and not hurt him too bad. But what he had walked into with Matt and Uncle Jack was still making his head spin.

 

                Jesse had been _right in the clubhouse_ , right where his uncle had forbidden it, and he was doing that stuff for the boys again. They’d been all over him, shouting and hollering, hadn’t even noticed Uncle Jack walking in the door until he started yelling. And then that shit had broken up fast. Uncle Jack didn’t even want to look in Jesse’s direction, and Todd had thrown his jacket over him quick to cover Jesse up, had led him out of the clubhouse before things got any crazier.

 

                Todd remembers Jesse’s questions from the day before the trip. “Hey … Jesse … you knew when we were going to be back. I didn’t tell Kenny, though.”

 

                “Well, good for you, Todd,” Jesse says, before he takes another bite of his taco. Jesse doesn’t sound very interested, but Todd is still feeling amped, like he wants to grab a gun and go shoot something up just to hear the noise blast open the silence of the New Mexico desert. This is the best news he’s had in a while, having Kenny removed from the equation, but he feels a faint suspicion that he ought to be thanking Jesse for the favor.

 

                “I was just thinking, that’s all. About the stuff I told you about my uncle and how he really hated fags, and how you had asked me all those questions about Kenny and how he gets on with Jack. Did you know he’d get upset like that?”

 

                Jesse doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look up through the grate, but keeps eating like he’s damn hungry. Todd thinks that maybe Jesse is afraid to admit what he did, that maybe he thinks that Todd will give him a beat down again. And Todd knows that he’s got to be careful with Jesse; that he’s got to be on his game— always—because Jesse is smart. Yet, he can’t get mad about any of it. Instead, he marvels at how Jesse can come up with this stuff. He’s like a little bit of Mister White, and a little bit of Lydia, and Todd isn’t sure which part he likes better.

 

                Todd takes another drag on his Marlboro as he leans against the wall, watches the smoke rise into the sphere of light being cast down from the security lamps. The sky is full of stars again, and he wishes he could cut off the halogen lights for a while so that he and Jesse can see them all. He listens for the sounds coming from the clubhouse, Jesse’s taco crunching muffling the boisterous hollers that carry across the night breeze. Uncle Jack has been spending time with some lady, he knows. He buys her bling with their barrel money, and takes her out to different restaurants, and the last few weeks, he’d been showing up in the mornings with coffee and donuts like he’d only just got back. But Jack stayed put the night before, and he doesn’t look to be going anywhere tonight, either.

 

                He had stared at Kenny all through dinner, too, like he didn’t want to but he couldn’t help himself. Uncle Jack would start to roll his mouth around as if he were about to speak, but then nothing would come out, and his eyes would shift to where Kenny sat with a great heap of disappointment unfolding across his face. It made Todd a little happy to see it. And then things got even better. His uncle had gotten up from the table, had told everyone that he and Matty had another trip coming up to make a deal for more guns, and hey, Todd would be watching over things while Jack was gone, so he had better not hear any more upsetting news from his nephew or there’d be hell to pay.

 

                Kenny had been _pissed._

                Todd likes knowing that Uncle Jack is still angry with his brother, but he also knows that Kenny can be dangerous. He’ll have to watch him carefully, too. He glances at the heavyset padlock hanging open at the top of Jesse’s grate as he smokes, notes its long, steel body reinforced with a cut-resistant shackle. He’s been using it since the day after the whole shitstorm in the clubhouse; he’s not sure why he hadn’t thought of it before. Todd’s the only one with a key, and he keeps the key around his neck to make sure he doesn’t lose it.

 

                He looks down at Jesse finishing off his water bottle, his head tipped back and his eyes closed as he glugs the liquid down. Todd wants to talk to him more about the whole Kenny solution, but decides that it’s better to just let it lie, like the way he and Jesse don’t bring up the showers again. But he wants to talk to Jesse about _something,_ and he wonders what Jesse’s life was like growing up – if Jesse grew up in a trailer like him, or had a nice house with nice folks, or brothers and sisters. Maybe he’d had a junkie for a mother, too, and maybe that’s why Jesse liked drugs so much. Todd wonders about Jesse almost as much as he thinks about Lydia.

 

                When he stands up and pulls open the grate, Jesse stares up with widened eyes, a little panic in his face. Todd turns and grabs the ladder, fits it into the square opening and releases the catch, the rungs making clicking noises as the bottom half descends to the floor. Jesse has already scooted to the far side of the cell, and as Todd makes his way down, he can see Jesse scrunch himself up by sliding his knees towards his chin. His eyes are fixed to Todd’s movements.

 

                “Hey, thought I’d come visit down here, instead. It’s getting cold up there,” he tells Jesse casually.

 

                But Jesse doesn’t move, just keeps staring like he’s waiting for Todd to do something.

 

                “Come sit over here, under the heat. I put the grill in just for you, Jesse, so you wouldn’t get sick. It’s just like the ones they have in them restaurant patios, now.”

 

                Jesse stays frozen, says nothing, and Todd sees that Jesse is still pretty nervous about Todd figuring out his plan. He needs to reassure Jesse that he’s not mad about it, because really, it’s hard for Todd to get mad about anything.

 

                Todd takes a few steps closer to Jesse, reaches down and takes hold of his sneakered foot.

 

                “Hey, really, it’s better if you stay warm.” Todd pulls Jesse’s foot up to his waist and starts to drag him towards the center of the cell, until Jesse’s butt hits the flimsy mattress and takes it a few inches with him, too. As soon as Todd lets go, Jesse scrambles onto the bedding amidst the clinking of his chains and sits at the farthest edge, holding up his blanket between them like a bullfighter’s cape and he’s prepared for the oncoming charge.

 

                “It’s easier to talk down here, if we’re not in the lab,” Todd explains. “That way Uncle Jack or the others can’t hear us, you know?”

 

                He tries to let Jesse know that they’re together on this, like they were in cahoots to get Kenny in trouble the whole time. The turn of events are certainly working out better for Todd. No Lester and Frankie, either, to fuck with Todd’s operation and make him look bad in front of Lydia. No, sir, it’s just him and Jesse and Miss Lydia Rodarte-Quayle working together from now on, and as long as Jesse doesn’t try and escape again, things look a whole lot better for the future.

 

                “What do you want?” Jesse finally croaks.

 

                Todd is befuddled by the question. He’s not sure he can even give him an answer, and he grins back at Jesse, his lack of words making him feel kind of foolish.

 

                “I don’t know. Nothin’. I mean, besides our better working relationship, and all. I just … wanted to _talk.”_ He shrugs. _“_ Must get kind of boring down here after the cook’s done.”

 

                “I don’t got—” Jesse starts heatedly, but then shuts up quick, his mouth cinching to a penciled line. There’s a few seconds of tension –Jesse’s mood tends to fill up whatever space he’s occupying – but then he looks away, settles down as he drops the blanket on his lap. “It does,” he finishes in a quieter voice. “Get boring sometimes.”

 

                “Yeah,” Todd agrees, exhaling the cigarette smoke from his nostrils. He doesn’t say anything else. It’s not like he can bring Jesse some video-games or anything.

 

                Todd sits down on the concrete, across from Jesse, and tries to get comfortable. It’s almost impossible to do so, and he thinks that maybe he should bring down another bedroll next time.

 

                “So … how did you and Mister White start up, anyway?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“ _Damn,_ Jesse. How can you even stand it? It’s rank as hell down here.”

 

                It really is. The stench of urine baking under a hot sun takes him back to the long ago memory of his bedroom during summers. How sometimes, as a kid, he would accidentally wet his underwear and they’d sit in piles of his dirty clothes for weeks, making the whole room stink. Of course, he had been really little, and hadn’t figured out how to run the tiny washing machine in the closet yet, but that smell had remained with him, the aroma always lingering in that corner of the trailer even into his teens. That had been one of the many things that had been good about his mother OD’ing, the fact that he got to leave that room and move in with Uncle Jack.

 

                Todd puts a hand over his mouth and nose as he approaches Jesse, tries to avoid the puddle on the ground, and grabs Jesse’s arm to turn him around. His shirt still has wet patches on the back of it, and his hair has dried, stiff clumps sticking sideways, like spray from a water fountain. Todd steps closer, puts his hand in front of Jesse’s face, cupping his chin as he gently tips the head back. Todd smells the worst of it wafting straight off of Jesse’s scalp. He wonders how they got Jesse to stand in place while they pissed over him. Then he remembers the kid of the dead Mexican girl, and sighs heavily. In some ways, it’s good that Jesse cares about that kid so much, because it’s something they can hold over Jesse to get him to do what they want. But at the same time, Todd can’t help feeling that Jesse can’t afford to have such a weakness.

 

                “Okay, then. Let’s get you out of the hole.”

 

                Jesse must have been soaking in it for a while judging by the smell, Todd thinks. It must have happened at night, but Todd hadn’t heard a thing. He would have been out early morning to get Jesse if it had been a regular day, but he’d had to load up the barrels in the truck and make the drop, first thing, and the airstrip is pretty far away.

 

                When Jesse sees that Todd’s taking him towards the building that holds the shower room, he stops in mid-step. Todd gets yanked backwards, as he’s holding on to the chains that run between Jesse’s wrists, but Jesse doesn’t budge. Todd stares at him a moment, perplexed. But he can see the fear stamped across Jesse’s face, and he gets it, suddenly, even though it’s been weeks since it happened. He holds up the Walmart bag and jiggles it for Jesse to see.

 

                “Don’t worry, man; it’s just you and me. Got some stuff out of Uncle Jack’s bathroom, though, so let’s get a move on. We don’t want anyone paying attention to what we’re doing.”

 

                Jesse finally starts to move and Todd tugs harder, makes him speed up his walk, which is kind of hard for Jesse to do with his ankles in restraints. They get inside, though, and Todd switches on the light, feels an instant sense of uneasiness as he recalls the way he slunk out this room the last time. Jesse’s quiet, but he follows Todd to the showers, the two of them standing near the entrance as if they’re both waiting for Kenny or Lester to jump out at them.

 

                “See? I told you we’d be left alone here. Them boys have been busy, besides. Uncle Jack’s got ‘em buying up all sorts of weapons. Shoulda seen the shit they had in the trunk they bought back yesterday.”

 

                He looks to Jesse who’s just standing there gawking at him. Todd gestures towards one of the shower heads.

 

                “Well? Come on. Gotta get that stink off of you before it gives me a nosebleed. Man, I don’t know how you managed to stand it all night. Not that you could do much about it, I guess.”

 

                He’s talking while he brings Jesse to a corner shower, purposely choosing the one that’s at the opposite end from the spot where Kenny had Jesse pinned. Todd puts down the bag at a distance where it won’t get wet, and then fishes for the keys in his pocket. He unlocks the ankle cuffs first – makes Jesse sit on the tiled floor while he does it. When he loosens the handcuffs around Jesse’s wrists, Todd gives him a measured look.

 

                “I don’t got to tell you why it wouldn’t be a good idea to run or anything, right?”

 

                But Jesse shakes his head earnestly, his eyes tearing up. He swallows thickly before he speaks. “I got it,” he says. “I’ll be good.” And Todd knows there won’t be any problem, making him feel another mixture of things that don’t make any sense.

 

                “I might just burn these clothes, Jesse. I don’t think this smell is coming out, no matter how many times I wash ‘em. That’s another shirt I liked, too. But I got you a couple the last time we were in town. They’ll fit better.”

 

                Jesse stands up, hardly seems to be breathing, and Todd has to motion him along to get him to undress. Jesse follows the cue, turns his body so that his back is to Todd, and pulls the shirt over his head. He flings it so that it lands farther away and the slap on the tile suggests the shirt was a lot wetter than Todd originally thought. Jesse starts to unzip his jeans, looks back at Todd over his shoulder like he’s expecting Todd to leave.

 

                “Ain’t no big deal, Jesse. Not like I ain’t seen you naked plenty, already.” He thinks it’s kind of funny how delicate Jesse is being about all of this. Todd turns to slip his hand into the plastic grocery bag, grabs the heavy bottle at the bottom and brings it out to show Jesse. “Got some good smelling body wash for you, too. It’s Uncle Jack’s, though, so don’t use too much. I don’t have time to go to the store today.”

 

                By the time Jesse has slowly removed his clothes, Todd has gotten comfortable, liking how cool the tiles feel under his hand. Sitting on the floor, he eases back to the wall, so that the spray won’t reach him. Jesse is staring again, and Todd can’t get over how long this process is taking.

 

                “What, you can’t turn the water on yourself?” he asks jokingly. It’s like Jesse is even afraid to take a shower.

 

                But something finally shifts in Jesse’s eyes, and he grabs the handle and turns it to the middle, stepping out from under the showerhead before the first blast hits the floor. He uses his fingers to test the temperature, but when he finally gets under the water, Jesse closes his eyes and his face goes real peaceful. He bends his head forward to let the force of the stream hit him square in the crown, turns his body so that the water hits him on all sides.

 

                Todd grabs the soap and stands up. “Hey, wait. Here, tilt your head back again.”

 

                Jesse does what he’s told and Todd snaps the cap open on the bottle then drizzles the soap over Jesse’s hair, making him jump a little. Todd moves the bottle so that the drizzle continues, along Jesse’s shoulders and onto his chest, and Jesse opens his hands to receive it, starts to lather it on his body. Todd closes the top and sits back in his corner, puts the soap back in the bag. It’s the kind with the heavy cologne smell that tends to knock people over the head with the wearer’s arrival, but Todd figures he needs a powerful scent to cover up that piss fragrance.

 

                “Do you mind if I smoke in here?” he asks, but Jesse doesn’t respond, his face now tilted to the spray like he’s praying in church. Jesse bends and twists, lets the soap sluice down in rivulets, over his ass and his legs. In bright light bouncing off white tiles, Todd has a full, glaring view of Jesse’s back and he’s still a little amazed by it.

 

                The letters haven’t faded much, still looking like someone wrote on him with a dark red magic marker, but Todd can see the skin puckered and warped along the lines where they cut into him. The word has its own texture, like a graft, and Todd has to resist standing so he can run his fingers over the bumps in the scars. When he’d had to hurt Jesse, it hadn’t been a fun time, just something that had to be done. It wasn’t personal. But Todd sees something raw and gleeful coming out of the message they carved on Jesse. Like it didn’t make any difference whether Jesse was a rat or not, Kenny and those boys used that as an excuse, just so they had a reason to tear him up.

 

                Todd lights his cigarette, flicks the burnt match to a space at his feet. He never uses this room, anyway. The water at Jesse’s feet is spreading outward, getting closer to where Todd’s pant leg is likely to get soaked, but he doesn’t really mind if he has to get wet in order to watch over Jesse. He doesn’t mind doing most things for him; Todd likes the company.

 

                “Jesse, you met Lydia, right? I mean, she said you two talked. But, well, you know how she is, when it’s _business._ Like, I know she likes things done a certain way, and she might get a little … _stressed_ if it doesn’t work out the way she wanted, but … anyway, what do you think of her?”

 

                There’s only the sound of the shower, at first, the moment stretching to an uncomfortable silence. Todd looks up to see the expression on Jesse’s face, but he’s concentrating on rinsing his hair clean. He rubs his hands across his face, pushing the water back over his head, and when he opens his eyes, he’s staring right at Todd.

 

                “I think she’s kind of the definition of uptight.”

 

                “ _Yeah.”_ There’s a long breath in Todd’s reply. “But she’s really all right. I mean, she’s a good mom, and she’s super smart, and you know, a really classy lady. I never met anyone like her.”

 

                “How do _you_ know what kind of mother she is?” Jesse asks. Todd is surprised by the question.

 

                “Well, I just know. When she talks about her kid … you can tell she’ll do anything for her. And she’s proud of her, too.”

 

                He recalls Lydia’s face when she mentioned that her daughter was in an _accelerated_ program, whatever that means. But he knows she’s spending a lot of money for it. She’s only brought her kid up once, but Todd feels like he’s really getting to know Lydia when she talks about any kind of stuff that doesn’t have to do with meth. He knows that his mom would never have spoken about Todd like that. He can still hear her raspy voice sometimes, with that deep, sputtering laugh like a motorbike engine starting. “ _Here’s my Toddy. He’s the abortion I never had.”_ Her friends would think it was funny. It wasn’t until Todd was in third grade that he found out what an abortion was, after he got transferred to the special class. Todd’s mother never wanted to be around him much, anyway.

 

                Jesse turns off the shower, faces Todd as his hair drips water into his eyes.

 

                “If you say so, Todd. You know her better than I do.” He holds out a hand, and Todd is confused, at first.

 

                “Oh, yeah.” Todd pulls out a towel from the bag, along with Jesse’s new clothes. “But anyway,” he resumes as he hands the towel over. “We always meet at this café she likes, usually in the afternoon, and it’s nice and all, but say … like, if I asked her to meet at _night,_ at say, a nice restaurant, where do you think she might want to go?”

 

                Jesse finishes drying himself off – he’s moving pretty slow again, like it hurts him to do it – and when he talks, it’s with a relaxed tone that Todd appreciates.

 

                “It’ll be something European, probably. Maybe French, but definitely not Italian. Expensive, for sure, whatever her preference. Are there any five-star German restaurants in Albuquerque? Or maybe Asian is the way to go. Seems like Lydia would totally be into Asian cuisine.”

 

                Todd has no idea, but he likes that Jesse’s already giving him options to search on the Internet. “I can find out,” he says. “And money don’t matter, obviously, so … yeah, that sounds good, Jesse.” He smiles broadly. “I have lunch with her tomorrow. I bought a tie for the meet. Make it a little more special. It’s this dark blue, or maybe it’s periwinkle? But it’s got bright dots all over it, super nice. I want to make sure I look sharp when I ask her about dinner for next time. You think I should bring flowers?”

 

                Jesse is doing his button-fly up, and the jeans fit him better than the ones Todd was loaning him. They’re snug, like the way the skinny kids wear with the funny haircuts. Todd feels a little pleased that he got Jesse’s size just perfect.

 

                “Did you wear a tie before?” Jesse asks.

 

                “Before? Like, usually, no.”

 

                “Don’t wear the tie. Women like confidence. You start dressing up as a new thing and she’ll smell it on you – that you want it too bad. She’ll shut you down faster than you can get a hard-on over the crazy eyes.”

 

                “I wouldn’t say her eyes are crazy. They’re just big.”

 

                “Whatever, man. She’s a little excitable.”

 

                Todd thinks that’s pretty funny coming from Jesse.

 

                “So, I guess no flowers, then?”

 

                “You don’t ever want to give a woman like Lydia flowers, Todd. She’ll just see it as a weakness.”

 

                “Okay.” Todd wishes he had one of his note pads so he can write this stuff down, just like he did with Mister White.

 

                Jesse is clothed, and he moves to sit in the corner where Todd is going through his bag. Gets down with him and slips on his sneakers. He smells a lot better now and Todd likes that Jesse looks so clean, his hair still wet. Usually, Jesse just gets a bucket of water and a rag, which Todd pulleys down from the top of the hole. All around, this was a good idea, bringing him in here. Todd turns to him with another smile, hands Jesse a toothbrush with a layer of toothpaste already on top.

 

                “Thanks, Jesse, for all that. Now … got to have you put your hands up so I can get the cuffs back on.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“97%? Are we absolutely sure about this?”

 

                Lydia’s eyes are saucer sized as she asks him again _,_ her pupils darting side to side as she watches the people seated around the place.

 

                “Yes, ma’am. I checked it, like, three times. Jes—I mean, Pinkman is really bringing his game. I think he might get to Heisenberg purity, if he keeps it up. He’s like – I don’t even know, but he’s _dedicated_ to making it better.”

 

                “Really? Well, I’m just … that’s excellent news, Todd. I’m pleased by this development, _very_ pleased.”

 

                They’re at The Grove again, but her hair is down today, and Todd is having a hard time not staring. He really likes it when her hair is down, it makes her look so soft and sweet. The way it gleams under the lights is making it so shiny that Todd can’t stop thinking about touching it. But the blouse she’s wearing under her jacket – it’s _so tight_ , and Todd glances down for a second to notice the space stretching between buttons right at her tits as she leans towards him. His eyes jump back up when he hears her clear her throat, and he feels guilty for ogling her.

 

                “ _Todd?_ Do you know what this means?”

 

                He’s not sure if she’s referring to him copping a look, or if she’s talking about the meth.

 

                “Um, the buyers will be happy?”

 

                “ _Absolutely_ , they’ll be happy, but they’ll still need to compensate us for the quality we’re providing. We can _increase_ our price, and they will pay it.” She smiles with only half her mouth, but it curls up in a way that makes his pants feel really tight. “Whatever you’ve been doing with our little protégé, I have to commend you. Well done. Do you really think he can bring it up another point?”

 

                Todd can see Jesse in the lab, his expression so focused all the time, and he wants to believe that Jesse can do it. It’s been over a month since Kenny and the boys last had their hands on Jesse, and Todd can see that he’s really improved. Not just in his cook, but also in the way he acts. He’s a lot nicer to Todd these days, let’s Todd talk about all kinds of things.

 

                “Yes, ma’am, I think he could do it. He seems … motivated.”

 

                Lydia’s grin dulls a bit, the corner lip descending. “Motivated? We’re … _not_ still talking about … the other men and their … _playing?_ ”

 

                “Oh, no, I told you, that’s not a problem anymore. I … I worked it out.”

 

                He thinks about the piece of paper in his shirt pocket, the name of a restaurant written there that Todd researched online. He’s chickened out the last few times that he’s been to see Lydia, but he thinks that with the news he’s brought, today might be the day to ask. After all, thanks to Jesse, they have something to celebrate.

 

                Lydia pulls a cigarette out of her purse and tucks it in her mouth, still rambling out of the other side of it. “Well, I’m very glad to hear you’ve got things under control, Todd. No more delays will be _crucial_ to the continuing negotiations with these people, and we can’t afford to antagonize them any longer. They expect continuity. If we ask for more money, it’s critical we have prompt deliveries. Distribution isn't crossing your fingers, it's a contract, and that contract is all about delivering on time. I trust—”

 

                “Ma’am, you can’t smoke in here, it’s illegal.” The waitress has come up to their table to interrupt her, but Lydia gives her a look like she’s nuts.

 

                “Um, hello? It’s a Blu. They’re _electronic_.” She waves the cigarette around in front of the waitress until the woman walks away.

 

                “I didn’t know you were a smoker … Lydia.” It sort of tickles him that they have something else in common. “How long have you been trying to quit?”

 

                “I’m not. I haven’t smoked since college. I just like … having something in my hands—but, anyway, I’ll let you know what stems from this exciting information once I hear it. I’ve got a major meeting at work that I have to prepare for and I’ve got a flight back to Houston early, so I’ll be in touch soon. We’re going to have to make some adjustments to the schedule, and I’ll need to get back to the methylamine solution.” She nods to him before she gets up. “The bag is at your feet. Don’t forget it.”

 

                “Oh, you’re really leaving right now?” Todd stands with her, feeling another disappointment land as she gathers her purse.

 

                “I’m actually running a bit late, traffic is going to be awful on the 40 … as I said, I’ll call you later with the rest of the details.” And she’s turning to go.

 

                “But – wait!” She freezes, looks back with alarm on her face while still managing to side-eye the inhabitants of the café again, but she doesn’t come back to the table. Todd feels his nerves sing. This is _Lydia._ She’s not like any other girl, she’s a _woman_. He’s got to do this right.

 

                “I was just thinking, maybe … next time, we could meet somewhere else?”

 

                Lydia smiles like she’s swallowing at the same time, making her appearance a little off, like something is growing in her mind and it’s oozing out of her eyes. She holds up her phone, mouths the words, _later,_ and then she’s marching to the exit on her red-soled heels.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

                “So, then I was like, _what about the money, dude? You left it back at the house_. And Ira knocked Carlos up the backside of his head for being so stupid. But you shoulda seen the guy’s face. Man, it was pretty funny. We had to go back and break into the house _again._ ”

 

                Jesse’s smashing ice, but Todd’s sitting by the work table waiting to cryovac the blue. Jesse bangs the sheet really loudly, but Todd shouts over the noise.

 

                “What kind of jobs did you do before you hooked up with Mister White, Jesse?”

 

                Jesse stops banging. Looks over at Todd with a tired face. It takes him a few seconds to answer, like he has to think about it.

 

                “I never had no job, except making crystal.” He shrugs. “My folks tried to make me work at a McDonalds or something when I dumped high school, but there wasn’t any way I was gonna put on a stupid uniform.” He says it like it was a sad thing that happened, but Todd gets it. A man has to have his self-respect.

 

                “What were your folks like?” Todd is excited that he may find out more about Jesse growing up, but Jesse freezes where he’s standing, and then his eyes go wide.

 

                “I – I – never really liked them. They hate me, so … you know, we stopped talking to each other a while back. They could have moved to another state, for all I know. _Assholes_ , really; like, the worst parents, ever.”

 

                “Yeah? I hated my Mom, too, on account of she was a cunt, as well as a drug addict. She never liked me, either.” Todd doesn’t use the _c-word_ very often, but that was definitely the correct way to describe his mother.

 

                “Oh.” He feels like Jesse is studying him, at first, but then Jesse’s gaze drops back down to the sheet of blue. “Sorry to hear that, Todd. It’s tough when even your own family won’t cut you a break.”

 

                But Todd isn’t interested in talking about his mother. He wants to hear more about Jesse.

 

                “What about brothers and sisters? You got any of them?” Todd had always wanted a big brother, someone looking out for him that could have lived with him and his mom in the trailer, too. He was lucky he had Uncle Jack, but his uncle wasn’t always nice to him, either.

 

                Jesse gets really still again, before he finally shakes his head, nice and slow. “Nope. No brothers or sisters. Just me.”

 

                And Todd gets that little lift again, like a flutter in his chest. He can’t help but smile back at Jesse.

 

                “Hey, Jesse, I’ve been meaning to ask you. I was looking at these nice sports coats the other day, in one of those stores with, like, the classical music playing. I know what you said about the tie, but do you think it would be … _eager_ , if I wore something like that next time? I mean, the weather’s starting to get a little cold. Or should I go with a leather jacket? Like that one you had – that was a sweet jacket, dude.”

 

                But Jesse just looks up at the ceiling of their Quonset hut, stretches his neck as his head rotates side-to-side. Todd watches him do that jaw thing that Jesse always does, moving it left to right, too. His sigh is really heavy.

 

                “The leather jacket, Todd. You want to get in this chick’s pants this century, or what?” He leans over and starts smashing the product even louder than before.

 

 


	4. its white tail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for your comments. This fic should be wrapped up in the next day or two. And many thanks to celeryy for her beta.

 

_its white tail_

 

 

 

“Yeah, that’s good. Now, lift up your chin.”

 

                Jesse tips his head back, revealing what’s left of the scruff underneath. Todd rinses the blades in the bowl of water he’s set beside them, and then curves his hand around one side of Jesse’s jaw, pulling him to the left so that the razor scrapes upwards with a thickening pile of foam.

 

                “Sorry about nicking that scab. I forgot what all was under this beard. I can’t even tell if that was one of mine or not. Been a while since we seen your face, huh?”

 

                Jesse doesn’t reply, but he blinks rapidly as Todd tilts his head to the other side, his breathing coming heavy and impatiently. Todd thinks that, even while trying to navigate the scars, it’s pretty easy to shave Jesse’s face, the planes of his cheeks and jaw and throat all gliding into each other while the razor’s blades hug his skin like a skateboarder’s wheels clinging to the concrete of a half-pipe. Jesse doesn’t have acne pits or early wrinkles like so many of the guys he knows, but possesses fine pores and chiseled bones, the kind of features that Todd sees in some of those men’s magazines with the pretty boys modeling weird clothes. His uncle used to rip those pictures out and plaster them on a mount for Todd’s target practice, always coaching him to _“shoot for the face”_ until the heads were obliterated and all that remained was half of a body and the designer name underneath.

 

                “We can probably sneak you in for a shower, later. Just got to be quick about it. Uncle Jack is gonna need me tonight, we’re meeting with this real high-strung dude. A big player, I guess. It’s pretty cool, he’s been asking for me to come along on these meets, but it sure keeps my schedule busy. Between you and Lydia and now Uncle Jack needing more backup, I feel like I’ve got a lot on my plate. It’s real good that you’ve been stepping up, Jesse. I sure have noticed, and it’s been appreciated.”

 

                He knows that Jesse being so obedient could very likely be part of some plan, but he’s not too concerned at the moment; the results have been working out for Todd pretty favorably. Jesse listens, and Jesse does what he’s told, but best of all, Jesse is making better meth. And better meth is only going to impress Lydia more. Todd thinks about her expression when he dangled the possibility of hitting the top three percent range. Thinks about how she might react if he were to whisper _ninety eight_ in her ear while he slips his hand inside her panties. _She was wetter than the jungle during a monsoon_. He heard Kenny say that once, but he wasn’t sure what it meant. He’s since seen things on the internet that helped him get a better idea, and he hears the guys talk about girls being _soaked._ Would Lydia’s panties get _soaked?_ He’s determined to ask her to dinner for tomorrow. It’s time. Even Jesse thinks it’s time.

 

                Todd uncuffs one of Jesse’s wrists so that he can bring both arms from around the back of the chair, Jesse stretching them first before he holds them out straight for Todd to reconnect. He hands Jesse a small towel so that he can wipe his face then steps back and drops the razor in the bowl. Todd lets Jesse stand up before he puts the other handcuff back on, moves Jesse backwards by the hips so he’s lined up under the track and Todd can connect the hook to Jesse’s waist. He looks over his handiwork with a bit of pride, like Jesse’s face is just another example of how well Todd is handling his responsibilities.

 

                “Looks good. How much longer we got?” He points to the bigger cook tank, the gauge hovering at the midway mark, but already Todd can’t recall what the temperatures mean.

 

                “’Bout another thirty minutes before I need to get started.” Jesse casts his gaze to Todd’s chest, and Todd knows that something personal is coming up, the way that Jesse always avoids looking him in the eye when he does it.

 

                “Thanks, Todd. For the shave. It feels nice. I feel like a … you know, a real human being.”

 

                Todd thinks that’s a strange thing to say and he grins at Jesse’s silliness. “Well, of course, you’re a human being. What else would you be?”

 

                “You, uh … you still doing what we talked about with Lydia tomorrow?” he asks instead, and Todd feels his chest inflating just thinking about it.

 

                “Yup, sure am. I got it written down, just like you said it the other day, and it’s in the pocket of the shirt I bought for the occasion. Everything sounds really smooth, Jesse. I know it’s gonna work on her. You’re real good with women,” he tells him for probably the tenth time.

 

                “Yeah, well … you know, I was thinking,” and Jesse takes a long pause as if he’s actually lost in his head right then. “Well … the whole percentage thing. I mean, I think I can get it higher with a piece of equipment that Mr. White wanted to buy when we started at the pest place. We, uh, ultimately couldn’t use it, because of the … you know, space limitations in the roadie cases. I was tasked with figuring out the whole transportation process, and the piece would have had to fit on the top of the condenser, which was an issue, so we made do without it. But … this set up here. We could use it, no problem.”

 

                Todd is surprised that Mister White never mentioned the piece, if this is true, but he can’t figure out why Jesse would lie about it. “Really? Like, what kind of equipment?”

 

                “Well, the thing is … it’s not something you can pick up just anywhere. Lydia … she’s going to be the only one who can get it for us, what with her sources at Madrigal and her connections, and all. I think if you … bring her around again, I can explain it to her, show her the value of it, and … you know, it could score us an even higher purity level. That’s what she wants, right?”

 

                Todd glances around at the equipment he and Uncle Jack stole from Declan’s group, which they in turn got from Mister White. Todd has no idea where the man got this stuff in the first place, but it makes sense that Jesse helped him find it. He scans the track on the ceiling, follows the cable down to Jesse standing in the middle of the work aisle. He doesn’t think Lydia would like seeing any of this. Jesse looks _better,_ but he doesn’t look great, either. He knows that Lydia is kind of funny about that stuff, doesn’t always want to see things that aren’t nice.

 

                “Mmm, I don’t know, Jesse. She doesn’t really like to come out here. She had to inspect the product the first time, but now it’s different. Now, we got you.”

 

                Jesse nods his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying, Todd. But … well, it’s an option to consider. You said you’re raising prices, right? You could go as high as fifty, sixty large if I had better technical stuff to work with. Some of this equipment – it’s gonna need servicing, at some point. And then … then there’s the, you know, dwindling methylamine supply.”

 

                Todd crosses his arms as he leans against the vat, holds a few fingers to his chin as he mulls over what Jesse is suggesting. He certainly knows that the future of the operation is under a big question mark. But it’s suspect that it’s Jesse who’s pointing it out.

 

                “Why do you even want to make it better for us, Jesse? This ain’t really your deal. You ain’t getting a cut of the profit. Why do you care?” It’s something he’s been wondering a lot. If Jesse thinks they’re going to kill him as soon as he’s no longer useful, than he could see him wanting to keep himself alive by being needed, but then, Jesse doesn’t always seem like he’s interested in being alive.

 

                Jesse stares back blankly, his mouth a little open.

 

                “What else do I have to think about?” he says. Jesse looks around the lab, shrugs with exaggeration. “I mean, I got to think about something. Keeps my … brain, I guess, from going a little nuts. I dream about … ways that I can create a better product than Heisenberg’s. Sky’s the limit, right? He ain’t here to remind me I can never be as good as him. You know, it’s about the _work._ Like you said, I can do better.”

 

                There’s something honest in Jesse’s answer that Todd responds to immediately, and he smiles in understanding, knowing what it feels like to be proud of your own thing. But he can’t believe that meth is _all_ Jesse thinks about.

 

                “What about girls? Don’t you ever dream about girls?” Todd gets a quick flash in his head of Jesse kneeling before Kenny. “Or … even fellas. I guess you might be more used to them now, huh?”

 

                Right away, Jesse’s expression hardens, his jaw locking tight. His eyes squint a bit at Todd.

 

                “You _know_ about the room, don’t you, Todd?”

 

                “What room? The shower room?”

 

                “The black room. You found me with them before. You never tracked me to that place?”

 

                Todd is totally confused, has no idea what Jesse is talking about, and he waits patiently for Jesse to explain it. Instead, Jesse sighs, runs a hand over his eyes. He looks a little awkward just standing there with nothing to do, so Todd grabs the two office chairs on casters, lounging by the diffuser, and rolls them towards the spot where Jesse is frozen. Todd pulls one of the chairs behind him, tugs on his cable until Jesse sits down, and then walks to the other and twists it one-handed on its wheels. He sits on the chair backwards, his hands squeezing the sculpted plastic back as he leans forward.

 

                “What room do you mean? Is this someplace the boys would take you?”

 

                Jesse shakes his head like a dog with fleas. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. I just … I don’t really dream about _anyone_ , you dig? Not really, um … there doesn’t seem to be much point.”

 

                “Oh. I guess. What about when you jerk off, though? You got to do that, at some point, like in the mornings. What do you think about then?” Todd is suddenly very curious about the way Jesse takes care of this need. Most of the time, the smell of dried semen and sex would be pretty damn strong down in Jesse’s cell, but that was when Todd would find Jesse naked and looking in a state. Lately, however, the only smell he notices is when Jesse needs bathing, or has to have his shit can emptied.

 

                Jesse gives him another one of those wide-eyed stares, but then he smiles, and it’s a creepy, wicked smile. “I certainly don’t think about your uncle, Todd.”

 

                But talking about spank material makes Todd’s mind wander to Lydia. He wonders for the thousandth time what she would like, what she might _be like_ in bed. Probably not as boring as the chicks he was used to that just laid back and let him stick it in. Not that he really knew much else to do in that situation.

 

                There had been that time, on his eighteenth birthday, when Kenny and Frankie had bought him a twenty dollar blowjob with a hooker as his present. She was a black girl with a shoulder-length weave that she’d dyed a brassy blonde. They said that it was their money, so they should get to watch, but both of them spent almost the entire time trying to hold in their laughter. Todd kept getting distracted by their snickers, trickling from behind hands clasped tight at their mouths. They eventually gave up and started ripping on the entire proceeding. Kenny got pretty mean at the end. Made that colored girl get really upset with the things he was saying, and then they held her head in place and yelled at Todd to come on her face, while she screamed at them the whole time. He’d done it, but the gift had been embarrassing for Todd. Kenny backslapped him when it was over, told him welcome to becoming a man, but he’d made jokes about it forever after, like it was something that Todd would never live down, being sucked off by a coon whore. That was when he started to not like Kenny so much.

 

                “You ever do it in a girl’s butt?” His curiosity is now rampant, wondering just what Jesse’s experiences with women have been like. He knows so much about the way they think, Todd imagines Jesse knows a lot about the kind of sex they like, too.

 

                Jesse blinks at him a few times, but otherwise he’s completely still. After a few moments, he looks over his shoulder, as if he’s expecting someone, and Todd can hear him breath in real sharp, but when he turns again, he’s got a super serious expression on his face.

 

                “Um, you know … occasionally.”

 

                “Seriously? Were they nasty girls? Uncle Jack always says that the nasty girls will let you do all the things that the wives and the girlfriends won’t tolerate, but I ain’t exactly had a long-time girlfriend, so I wouldn’t know which types would go for it.” He feels like he’s been revealing a lot to Jesse over the past few weeks, but he’s feeling pretty secure that Jesse won’t make fun of him the way Kenny and his boys do. Jesse still gets upset, sometimes, but now that he’s interested in what Todd has to say, Todd feels like he’s got an opportunity to ask just about _anything_ and Jesse will give him an answer. It’s not the kind of sharing that Todd is used to, and a thrill courses through him considering the possibilities.

 

                “Not always,” Jesse mumbles, playing with the metal around his wrist.

 

                “What about … like, did you ever do more than one? Two girls at the same time?”

 

                “You know, Todd, I think I should probably get the hydroxide in,” Jesse says, as he moves to stand.

 

                “Aw, but come on, just tell me. I bet you did.”

 

                He watches a ripple of irritation cross Jesse’s features before its controlled, goes back to a relaxed smile. “Why do you think that, Todd?”

 

                “It’s just … I don’t know. Girls like you, Jesse.”

 

                Jesse’s smile gets a little tighter, and he raises his eyebrows. “You think? Is it because of my eyes? Am I sending them a _message_?”

 

                “Well … probably. Yeah, I could see it.”

 

                He doesn’t expect the laugh, but it’s a sharp bark that echoes around the hall. Jesse grins at him, but there’s something dark in his eyes that makes Todd cautious.

 

                “Sure, Todd. I’ve been with two girls together. Happened more than once, actually.”

 

                “For real? Like … how many times?”

 

                Jesse shrugs like it’s nothing. “I don’t know. Three, four. I was pretty fucked up on crystal for at least half of those occasions, so I’m kind of hazy on the details. Like, week-long shit. Woke up once and found three of them in my room, though, already working on each other while they waited for me.”

 

                “Holy shit, no kidding? And you can’t remember all of it?” Todd can’t help but be impressed. He tries to imagine such a thing, pictures Jesse, all smiles, in a bed with three pretty girls, but then the girls end up being Kenny, Lester, and Frankie and the Jesse in his head starts to scream.

 

                “Would you always kiss them girls?” He thinks that maybe one scenario was better than the other for Jesse because there was kissing involved. That, and no beatings. Todd is curious if Andrea was ever in these threesomes, but he’s learned not to mention her to Jesse, anymore, if he wants Jesse to keep talking.

 

                “Yeah, of course.”

 

                “Man, Jesse, I bet you had a lot of pretty girlfriends, huh? You probably kissed ‘em real nice, and all, like in the movies.”

 

                Jesse's forehead creases as he throws up his hands. “I don’t know, Todd. They weren’t always pretty. I’ve fucked plenty of skanks in my time. But if I liked them, I kissed them like I always did, the way I learned from the start. You know, you practice your moves early on, figure out what works, and then you stick with it.” He looks to the side and points to the cook vessel. “This should be ready by now. I’ve got to start the batch.”

 

                “Wait … hey.” He thinks that if he ever has the chance to kiss a woman like Lydia, he doesn’t want to fuck it up. “You think you can show me?”

 

                “Show you what, Todd?” Jesse is walking towards the tank as he re-ties his apron.

 

                “You know … your moves.” He doesn’t want to say the word out loud, knows how it’s going to sound. But he’s pretty sure it can’t really be a queer thing if Todd’s thinking about Lydia while he does it. Plus, Jesse can be a good teacher. He recalls how Jesse spoke to him and showed him the steps again for the cook when Jesse’s hand was busted up and swollen that one week. It had been better than listening to Mister White. Jesse explained things in a nice way that didn’t make Todd feel like an idiot.

 

                Yet, Jesse is already starting to get worked up like he usually does when his emotions get too big for his body, so that they come whirling out at all kinds of exit points. It’s like Jesse feels things for everybody else, too, and Todd thinks it must wear Jesse out to have so many feelings running through him all the time.

 

                “My _moves?_ What … what are you talking about? Show you? How do you expect me to show you?”

 

                “I just want to make sure I’m doing it right. That Lydia ... well, you know what I’m saying, Jesse, don’t make me explain it.” But Jesse keeps staring at him like he’s not buying anything that’s coming out of Todd’s mouth. “I want to do it like she deserves. But I – I don’t do things as good as you. I’m just asking for a lesson.”

 

                “So … you want me to _give you a lesson_ … in how to—’cause I just want to make sure I’m hearing this right, Todd – how to _kiss_. That’s what you’re asking, right? For me to kiss you?”

 

                It’s like something is brushing the back of Todd’s neck as soon as Jesse says it, and the feeling travels down his spine, flashes heat at the base of his back. But Todd’s curiosity is stronger than any discomfort right now.

 

                “I just want to know how _you_ do it. It ain’t like Kenny and them or nothing, it’s just … _instructional._ You know, like a favor. I do favors for you all the time.”

 

                Jesse’s face turns strangely open and bright, like he’s about to laugh at something really amazing.

 

                “ _Favors?”_

                Todd can see the storm brewing in Jesse’s eye, and then there’s a moment when it looks like he’s wearing six different expressions all laid over one another, his breathing hard enough to be heard. Jesse looks incredible like that, and Todd wishes that he could plug into Jesse for a second or two, just so he could get a taste of what was moving through the guy. He thinks briefly again that Jesse and Lydia are a lot alike, and maybe that’s why he likes them both so much, because they act so different to everyone else he knows.

 

                He watches Jesse turn so that his back is to him, wonders what he’ll do. Todd can see that Jesse is shaking a little, that he’s clutching his middle like he might be ill, and so Todd rolls forward on his chair, using his feet like crab claws, and slowly makes his way up behind him.

 

                “Hey, Jesse. It’s okay, really. I won’t tell anyone.”

 

                When Jesse steps back around, he’s smiling tightly. “Sure. Yeah. I know.”

 

                “I mean it.” Todd gets up and twists his chair around, so he can sit in it proper and still face Jesse. Todd scoots toward him another half dozen inches.

 

                Jesse’s still got his arms wrapped around himself, glances to where he’s left his chair, but Todd is close enough now that he can slip a finger into Jesse’s belt loop, pulls it until Jesse is forced to move and his legs buck up against Todd’s knees.

 

                “Just sit here.”

 

                Something wild dances in Jesse’s eyes again, but Todd can’t pinpoint what it might be, so when Jesse straddles him he’s a little surprised at the ease of it. He looks to his right and sees the open door, slides backwards with Jesse to position them in line with the cook vat. They’re blocked pretty well, but Todd knows mostly everybody’s gone out on business for the day. Todd grips a hand around the cable and tugs on it so there’s some slack on Jesse’s waist. He pinches at Jesse’s rubber apron and flaps it a few times.

 

                “You should get rid of this. It’s in the way.”

 

                Jesse takes a long breath before he removes it, and when he does, it’s achingly slow. He tosses the apron to the floor, before shifting on Todd’s lap.

 

                And then it’s just quiet for a moment. Todd waits for Jesse to start, but Jesse has closed his eyes, is doing that counting thing under his breath again, and just as Todd wonders if he should prod him with a finger, Jesse takes a great breath and shakes his head really fast.

 

                “Okay … come on then. Let’s see what you got,” Jesse says in a tough voice. Todd’s confused, thinks Jesse might have misunderstood him.

 

                “What do you mean? You’re gonna show _me_ …”

 

                “Yeah, well, I gotta see what we have to work with, here. Assess your skill level, and all. So, go ahead, Todd. Just do it and stop talking about it.”

 

                And instantly, Todd feels awkward, like he’s being tested by Mister White to explain who the hell Antoine Lavoisi-whatever-his-name is and what chemistry he’s famous for. But he also wishes he could impress Jesse, just once, and it’s this thought that makes Todd grab the back of Jesse’s head and pull him forward, gives him the kick he needs to plant his lips fully on Jesse’s mouth.

 

                Jesse tenses up his whole body, but his mouth is surprisingly loose. Todd’s glad he’s been letting Jesse brush his teeth in the morning, when he brings him into the hut, because now Jesse tastes freshly minty, and Todd takes no time at all to push his tongue forward, likes the feel of Jesse’s teeth as they scrape him. He moves it around for a few seconds, makes sure he’s imagining Lydia, but already Jesse is putting his hands to his shoulders, pushing him back.

 

                “What the hell was that, Todd?” he asks with an aggravated face. “You always start like that?”

 

                “I guess. Why? Did I do something wrong?” He’s a little disappointed that Jesse thinks it was bad.

 

                “It was like being mauled by a camel’s tongue. Jesus, you ever heard of building up to something? Slow your roll, dude.”

 

                “Oh, I thought that’s what you were asking for … you know, what I got.”

 

                “Yeah, but you don’t drop your load the second you touch the girl’s pussy, do you? _Work up to it._ Chicks don’t respond to that kind of junior high over-eager shit, you dig? Especially grown-ass women.”

 

                He lets it sink in, what Jesse is criticizing, re-figures his strategy. “Okay. Should I try again?”

 

                “Sure, why the hell not.”

 

                But he doesn’t even get a second in this time before Jesse stops him again. “Yeah, no. That’s … not sexy, Todd.”

 

                “Well, what do I gotta do? I mean, that’s why I was asking—”

 

                Jesse holds up a hand, ceases the discussion. “Fine, but we’re going to do it my way, now. First thing, I want you to close your eyes, Todd. And then you gotta relax your face. Just let everything loosen up … your jaw, your mouth, your cheeks, all of it.”

 

                “How am I supposed to loosen my chee—”

 

                “Just shut up, and do what I say. It’s going to be fine. We’re all good, here. I’m … I’m just going to … wait until you’re chill.”

 

                “I’m chill, Jesse.” He’s still watching Jesse through slits in his eyelids.

 

                “Close your eyes. And shut up. Except, leave your mouth open a little bit. I said a _bit_ , Todd, not like that. You ain’t catching flies here.”

 

                 Todd thinks that if he’s going to close his eyes in front of Jesse, then he’d better make sure Jesse stays put. He slides an arm up to catch the cable, wraps it around his wrist once. He’s trying to make all the muscles in his face feel less tight than normal, but he’s not sure if it’s working. He can hear Jesse breathing really fast, and then suddenly it stops, gets super quiet.

 

                When Jesse’s lips first touch Todd’s, there’s barely any pressure, and Todd thinks that maybe Jesse isn’t that great of a kisser, after all. But then, there’s this _push,_ and the way he’s moving his head, the way he _breathes_ into Todd, is making Todd want to open his mouth more, and Jesse is still only kissing, but with every press forward, the kiss feels deeper, their mouths stretching wider but still together. And when there’s finally tongue, Jesse starts with a dab at Todd’s lips, and Todd wants to feel it, holds Jesse’s head so that he knows Todd wants more. His tongue fills Todd’s mouth not like he’s emptying it there, but like it’s a snake slithering into a dark space, looking for a home. And by now, Todd realizes that he’s never really kissed at all if this is what it’s supposed to be like, and he can feel it far beyond his mouth, can feel Jesse’s tongue slipping back to his throat as if it were a spear right in his balls, can feel a trot in his chest. He hears a grunt come out of him and there’s a heartbeat in his dick, and just as pieces start to stiffen, Todd grabs Jesse’s waist, pushes him hard until Jesse’s slid off his lap and almost lands on the floor, the cable yanking him up hard at the waist.

 

                “Yo, what the hell?” Jesse complains, just as the timer starts to beep obnoxiously. But Todd’s got his eyes wide open and he sees it before Jesse can hide it, sees that smirk before Jesse’s expression turns quickly to outrage.

 

                “Um, I forgot I had to take care of something before Uncle Jack gets back. You gotta get to the cook, anyway,” Todd mumbles, getting up with a hard back kick to the chair, which sends it careening across the floor. “I’ll check in with you later.”

 

                He heads to the table to pick up the bowl with the razor and then turns on his heel and walks as fast as he can to get the hell out of there.

 

 

* * *

 

 

                “Todd, I really don’t appreciate this change in our routine. I know you said you had another engagement earlier, but please, do be sure to try and stick with my schedule in the future.”

 

                Lydia’s been bitching about the location for the last ten minutes, but Todd is really only half-listening to her. The other half is still thinking about that kiss. Has been thinking about it since yesterday morning.

 

                “Todd, are you listening to me? I’ve been stuck in my hotel for the past five hours waiting for this—” Lydia gestures at the dining room they’re in –“ _meeting_ to occur, and I get dragged to this place like … well, it’s not really my kind of eating establishment.”

 

                He looks around the dining room trying to determine what’s wrong with it. Todd can see that it’s not really as ritzy as she’s probably used to, but it’s not like The Grove was all that amazing.

 

                “The food’s supposed to be real good here. And you speakin’ German for your work, and all … I thought you might like a change.”

 

                “Look, this place is little more than a beer hall. I mean, the waitresses are dressed in _lederhosen,_ for God’s sake. Believe me, I can live without _spaetzle_ for the rest of my life, if need be; this is the kind of food that is literally created to add fat to your thighs. I‘ve had to sit through enough dinners with my bosses to know that this gastronomical nightmare will stick around in your gut for the next week.”

 

                “Oh.” Todd knew she didn’t like it as soon as she walked in the door, but he’s already over his disappointment. He knows it’s not expensive enough for her, but the people on Yelp really liked it. “Well, I don’t speak French and I don’t really care for chink food, so this was kind of my last option. I guess I don’t know too much about picking five-star restaurants.” He should have listened to Jesse better.

 

                Lydia looks offended by the entire menu and slaps it on the table. “Why did you even ask me to come here, Todd? What was wrong with our usual location?”

 

                Todd is thinking about the way Jesse’s tongue seemed to just melt into his, how that’s a sensation he’s never quite felt before and he doesn’t even feel he can come up with the appropriate language to really describe it.

 

                “ _Todd?_ ”

 

                He stares at her as if she’s just appeared. “Oh … right. I told you I had that thing with my uncle this afternoon, and since we’d be meeting at dinner time … you know, I thought it would be a nice place to … get to know each other better. It’s not so bright here … like, for atmosphere, and we can really _talk…_ about stuff.”

 

                 Lydia’s eyes are as big as he’s ever seen them, like they just might stretch out of her head and pop to the floor.

 

                “Know each other better? We’re _business_ associates, Todd. I trust you understand just how _necessary_ it is to keep the personal and the professional separated, _particular_ ly in this business. Really, the less we know about each other, the better for the both of us.”

 

                Todd has the script Jesse dictated to him memorized, he can see the words scrolling by in his head like the newsfeed crawling across the bottom of a television screen, but now he’s not sure if he should say it. Suddenly, Lydia seems transparent, and he can see right through her to the people seated at the next table over. He recalls that night after Jesse had him copy everything he had said verbatim, how Todd had gone to his room and attempted to imagine Lydia’s responses, had wondered what it would feel like to put his arms around her, or even kiss her. Perhaps that was why he had wanted Jesse to coach him first. Because no matter how hard he had tried, he really _couldn’t_ imagine it, the idea so foreign to him it had been easier to envision the expression on her face with his hands at her throat and squeezing tight.

 

                “I’m sure you’ll come to appreciate how the arrangement we currently have is ideal, Todd. It’s … _flattering_ that you would want to … augment our working relationship with intimate details, but there’s really nothing about me that you would probably care to know.”

 

                She puts a tentative hand on top of his as she gives him a weak smile, but Todd can barely feel it, instead feels the weight of Jesse on his legs, the way Jesse rocks as he kisses. Todd tries to picture Lydia kissing him like that and something seizes in his throat, makes him choke. And then he sees Jesse kissing Lydia, and the image of that is so powerful that Todd’s head swims a little, and he feels kind of floaty, like that one time he got drunk on whiskey before he threw up everywhere. Lydia’s still making that fake face, but all Todd can think about is what Jesse might be doing right at this moment. It occurs to him that maybe he needs to cut his losses for tonight and try again for next time, thinks that maybe he needs to get back to the compound and talk to Jesse about a new plan.

 

                “If you say so, Miss Lydia.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

                “ _Psst._ Jesse. Hey, Jesse, you still awake?”

 

                Todd has pulled back the tarp and peers through the bars. Jesse is sleeping, but he stirs at the sound of Todd’s voice, sits up and rubs at his face.

 

                “Yeah, I’m awake,” he answers in a scratchy voice.

 

                “Okay, I’m coming down.”

 

                He’s slipping the twine that holds the key from around his neck and up over his head. Todd makes quick work of opening the padlock and lifting the grate, goes to grab the ladder quickly but as quietly as he can manage. It still makes a clatter as it zooms to the floor, but Todd holds it high enough that it doesn’t slam into the concrete. He grabs his bedroll to tuck under his arm, grabs the paper box from the restaurant and starts his descent.

 

                He jumps to the floor from the third rung. “Hey.”

 

                “Hey.” Jesse is staring at him like Todd’s a dream, his gaze on the rolled up mattress. They haven’t really spent any time together since the practice session, what with Todd keeping pretty busy and getting ready for his date with Lydia.

 

                Todd hands him the box first. “I bought you some German Chocolate Stout Cake from the place we went to. It’s real good. Like, _really_ good.” Lydia had refused dessert, but Todd had taken his and Jesse’s to-go.

 

                “Thanks,” Jesse says as he takes the box. He’s still looking at the bedroll.

 

                “I was thinking about crashing like last time,” Todd explains, recalling the few nights he spent in the cell with Jesse after the whole pissing thing. He had wanted to be around if Kenny and them came back, because by then, it had felt like he owed it to Jesse to do so. But they hadn’t come by, that Todd knew of, the tarp rolled up so that he and Jesse could see the sky the whole night. Of course, it had been necessary to chain Jesse up really tight, so that he couldn’t move his limbs and couldn’t roll anywhere. Jesse didn’t seem to mind, though. There had been an eyelet hook screwed into the wall that Todd had never noticed before, but when he ran Jesse’s chain through it, Jesse hardly blinked an eye. When Todd had awakened the next morning, Jesse was lying on his side just staring at him.

 

                Todd couldn’t make it through that second night, had given up and gone back to his room. The floor is hard as hell. He doesn’t know how Jesse can stand it. He unrolls the thin mattress and folds it in half, positions it next to Jesse’s so he can sit down. Todd takes out his cigarettes and matches, waves to Jesse still holding his dessert.

 

                “Go ahead, eat up. I didn’t grab no fork, but I got you some napkins.”

 

                “That’s okay. Maybe later, Todd. I’m – not really hungry.”

 

                “Suit yourself, then.” He puts the cigarette in his mouth and scrapes the match across the concrete to get it lit. It’s not until he’s taken the first puff that he really looks at Jesse’s face. There’s something going on there, he can see already, Jesse appearing almost haggard under the glow rods of the heater. His eyes have that glistening quality – like they’re shiny with dew – and he seems really down, as if his head is too heavy to even bother lifting up.

 

                “So, I took her to the place I told you, but I don’t think she liked it. Actually, she _definitely_ didn’t like it. I should have gone with expensive, like you said. I mean, their prices weren’t cheap, but they weren’t, like, _elegant_ , you know? With like, snobby waiters and everything.”

 

                Jesse doesn’t respond, at first, but then he presses fingers to his eyelids, hangs his head with a sigh.

 

                “Yeah … that’s too bad, and all, but … I’m not really … up for talking about Lydia, Todd. Not tonight, okay? Is that alright?”

 

                This gets Todd very curious. He feels like he’s got lightning running under his skin just being in Jesse’s presence, but he wants to know what’s going on, needs to find a way to turn Jesse’s mood around. He drove way over the speed limit to get back here as fast as he did.

 

                “Yeah, sure. We can talk about something else. We haven’t really said much to each other the last few days. What’s wrong?”

 

                “What’s _wrong?_ ” Jesse repeats with a quaky voice, and it catches at the end, strikes a higher note, like he’s got the hiccups.

 

                “Did something happen while I was gone? Like, was it Kenny and Lester? They bothering you?”

 

                “ _No,_ it’s nothing, _Todd.”_

                But it’s obviously _something._ He considers his brief interaction with Jesse that morning, how it had been kind of weird. Todd had still been trying to process why he’d felt those things when Jesse had kissed him – what did it say about Todd? – and the walk to the cook hall had been silent and strained. Todd starts to wonder if maybe Jesse has been thinking about the kiss, too, and that’s why he’s looking a little glum. Todd recalls that secret little smile Jesse wore after he pushed him away, imagines that maybe Jesse _misses_ him. Perhaps Jesse’s been waiting for another kiss, too, but he doesn’t know how to say it. The idea comes to Todd on a wave of terrified excitement.

 

                Because Todd really, really wants another opportunity to try it again, he’s just not sure why.

 

                “You sure? You seem kind of bummed. Is it ‘cause you’re thinking about someone?”

 

                Jesse glares in his direction before shaking his head at the wall. “I said forget it. I don’t want to talk about it, alright?” There’s a pause. Jesse closes his eyes and speaks softer. “I just really … don’t want to think about _him._ ”

 

                Todd’s brain scrambles for all possible _hims. “_ Him? Like, who? Mister White?”

 

                He must have got it right, because instantly Jesse’s jaw clenches and he makes a face like he wants to let loose on someone. But he doesn’t. Jesse calms down the next second, keeps his eyes closed. “It doesn’t matter.”

 

                There is a bullet train of information running through Todd’s head at the moment, and it’s like his body is the track and he’s vibrating with the overflow. Todd remembers Mister White’s face while he was talking about Jesse with Uncle Jack, and he thinks he sort of gets it now. Mister White thought of Jesse as his partner, but Jesse was also a friend, as well as ‘ _family_ ’, had maybe even felt like a son, and then Jesse had become the enemy. It amazes Todd that one person could be so many things for another. He thinks of Mister White when he told Jesse about being around for that girl dying, and that expression had been as cold and as mean as anything Todd had ever seen from his mother. Todd thinks that Jesse must have meant a lot to him at one time, for Mister White to hate him so much, later. It’s the only thing that’s logical, from Todd’s standpoint. He wonders what else Mister White felt for Jesse before he turned rat.

 

                Todd considers the possibility that the same thing is happening to him, that Jesse is getting his hooks into him, too. He does like Jesse, likes the way he’s older and smarter and really cool, but still nice to Todd. And Jesse is here, while Lydia is not; Jesse is his … his to take care of, while Lydia is not. He can do whatever he wants with Jesse, and Jesse can’t do anything about it, just like Kenny and the others did what they wanted. Todd understands why Jesse was mad, now. If Jesse were a girl, he expects that guys would refer to him as _high maintenance._

 

                But then he figures that he’s been protecting Jesse ever since that day in the clubhouse, and maybe Jesse likes that about Todd now. That maybe it was why Jesse kissed him the way he did, as a thank you.

 

                Todd is starting to feel like his brain might collapse with all of the input. He realizes that it’s been quiet in the cell for several minutes now, that his cigarette has about an inch of ash dangling on the end. He taps it to the floor and clears his throat.

 

                “Um … well, we don’t have to talk or nothing, if you don’t want to, Jesse. We could do something else.”

 

                That makes Jesse open his eyes. He stares at Todd cautiously.

 

                “Like _what_ , Todd?”

 

                “Well … I was thinking. About Lydia—which I know you don’t want to hear about her right now, and that’s totally cool. But I keep thinking that … the other day, that _lesson_? Maybe I could use another one.”

 

                Jesse doesn’t move or appear to breathe for a few beats, as if he’s turned to stone. But then his eyes dart to the top of the hole.

 

                “I – I don’t think that’s really a good idea, Todd. I mean, it’s late, and … we’ve got a major order to get through tomorrow. We should – we should probably both get some sleep.”

 

                But Todd is already scooching closer to Jesse, his knee hanging over the other mattress.

 

                “It won’t take long. Just a couple of times. You know, for practice.”

 

                Jesse backs up a few inches to make more space between them.

 

                “But _why_? You’re fine, Todd. Really. I’m sure you’ll do just fine with her.”

 

                “Nah, c’mon, Jesse. You’re just being nice. I know I still need some work. You just got a … a flair for coaching, you know? You’re a real good …” and Todd takes a breath before he says it, “you’re a real good kisser.”

 

                His compliment seems to have the opposite effect he was angling for, and Todd isn’t quite sure if Jesse’s reaction makes him disappointed or relieved. Jesse gets upset, looks like he’s gonna cry, and then his hands are covering his face and Todd sees his shoulders start to shake, hears whispers coming from Jesse that sound like _ohmygodohmygodohmygod…_

                “Hey, man. Jesse? Don’t be sad. This’ll help you get your mind off of Mister White, and you can help me out at the same time. Just for a little while. I promise.” Todd reaches over and puts a reassuring hand on Jesse’s shoulder, gives it a squeeze. But he’s already thinking about his technique, is imagining the feel of Jesse’s tongue back in his mouth and everything that came with it. He doesn’t understand it, but he wants it all the same.

 

 

                “ _Jesus_!” And suddenly Jesse is looking at him like before, when he was all pissed off about the dead kid, and then the dead girl. “What the fuck, dude? I don’t want to fucking kiss you, alright!” He holds up his hands in the air then drops them, like Todd doesn’t get it, but Todd understands all too well.

 

                “But it’s a _lesson,_ Jesse. There’s a difference. I’m just asking you to let me try again, see if I got it right bef—

 

                “Todd! I don’t care! Got…It?”

 

                And because Jesse is suddenly saying no, Todd wants the kiss even more. There’s something building in him that isn’t pleasant, this increasing tightness in his chest that’s making it hard for him to breathe.

 

                “Well … I’m real sorry you feel that way, Jesse. But I guess I didn’t really ask you, though, huh? I mean, I don’t want to have to be the one to bring it up, but … well, Jesse, you don’t really get to decide. You know, it’d be a real shame if anything happened to that little boy, on account of you being … _difficult_.”

 

                Jesse stares at him for a really long time, doesn’t even seem to notice the tears rolling down his cheeks, and whatever Jesse is shooting at Todd through his eyes is starting to make Todd feel strange. But then his head dips and he’s looking at Todd’s knees and it’s like Todd is watching Jesse’s face start to crack into pieces. And he’s trying to keep those pieces together by squeezing every muscle, pulling them taut over his cheekbones and forehead while gritting his teeth, even gripping the back of his neck as if Jesse’s head might just spin off and sail away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

 

                Todd feels bad watching him. He really does. But it’s kind of fascinating seeing Jesse do this to himself. Jesses swallows as if it hurts him, turns his head to search the ceiling – Todd has no idea what Jesse’s hoping to find – and there’s this sadness in Jesse that seems to give off its own light. Todd holds his breath for a second because he can see something shining in Jesse’s face, something that’s beautiful there, as if the way that Jesse suffers only makes him more special, more different to everyone else, and yet these details only continue to confuse the hell out of Todd. He wants to take care of Jesse, but he also wants Jesse to make him feel things. He just doesn’t know what those things are.

 

                There’s a sigh as Jesse’s jaw moves around, a release that rolls off of him like billowing steam. Todd notices the shoulders slump, knows that Jesse isn’t going to fight him anymore.

 

                “Just do it, Todd,” he says finally, sounding small and squeaky. “Do whatever it is you need to do.”

 

                “I’m not trying to hurt you, or nothin’. I don’t know why you’re putting up such a fuss, Jesse. I mean, really … what are you even thinking?”

 

                “Right now? Um, I’m thinking that Mr. White was right, and that I’m an idiot.”

 

                Todd doesn’t believe it. Mister White _admired_ Jesse.

 

                 “Don’t say that. It ain’t true, at all. Mister White cared about you. I know he did. And you’re not an idiot, you’re real smart, Jesse. Look at how you figured out that methylamine heist, and how you got out of this hole – that was some real McGyver shit, right there. If we hadn’t seen you on the security cameras … well, anyway, I think you’re being hard on yourself. I mean, you can make meth as good as Mister White’s. How many people like us can do that? That’s why I like … hanging out with you. ‘Cause you’re totally cool. I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just … I just wanted to …” but Todd can’t even finish, he just really wants to kiss Jesse.

 

                “Aw, Jesus, Todd, stop talking, please. Are we practicing or what?”

 

                As soon as he says the words, Todd leans forward, flattens his palms to the ground as he presses his lips square on Jesse’s. At first, Jesse jumps in his skin, but then he shifts his hands awkwardly to the side, so he can keep his balance, and Todd hears Jesse’s chains jangle as they’re pulled taut on either side.

 

                He moves closer to get more comfortable, so that they’re right up against each other. He thinks enough time has passed for him to use tongue, but the second he pushes past Jesse’s teeth, there’s a hand pressing against the front of his shoulder. Todd sits back on his feet, feels another cut of failure.

 

                “Todd, you gotta stop thinking,” Jesse tells him, and he’s not mean about it, just honest.

 

                “What do you mean?”

 

                “Like, you’re thinking too much. It’s like I can hear you counting the seconds before you can stuff your tongue down my throat. You need to empty your head of all thought. You can do that, can’t you?”

 

                For a second, Todd thinks that maybe Jesse is being sarcastic, but his voice sounds way too shaky for it to come out that way.

 

                “I guess.”

 

                “Well, don’t guess, just do it. This isn’t something you’re supposed to … perfect, according to some technique. Every girl is different. You gotta listen to her, when you’re kissing her. Except, listen with your … I don’t know. It’s about making her feel good, right? You _do_ want to make Lydia feel good? I mean, that’s the plan here, isn’t it?”

 

                “Well, sure, but …” and Todd is suddenly forced to think about Lydia again. “I mean, I want it to be _mutually_ good.”

 

                “Trust me, Todd. If you’re making the girl feel good, you’ll know it, and that is gonna make you feel awesome. But … you need to … think about what she wants.”

 

                “You just told me _not_ to think, Jesse.”

 

                Jesse sucks in his breath, his eyes going big. “Yeah, okay. I know. Just … pay attention to me, though. It’s like, when you’re tonguing a girl, she’s going to want an invitation first. Or some advance warning. But you have to know when she’s ready for it. Read the _signals_ , as it were. I thought you were all about that.”

 

                At this point, Todd is feeling impatient. He doesn’t even care, anymore, what Jesse’s trying to teach him.

 

                “Okay, yeah. Let me try again.”

 

                This time, though, he pulls Jesse forward by the waist so that Jesse has to spread his legs to rise up over Todd’s lap. When Todd goes to kiss him, he puts his hands on either side of Jesse’s face, holds him still, as he plants one again. He’s glad that he gave Jesse a shave, but even though there’s a few days stubble, it’s still pretty soft on his skin.

 

                He does try to do as Jesse says, but it’s hard, at first. Jesse’s not giving him a lot back, which Todd is pretty used to, but he’s kind of hoping for a repeat of the last time. Jesse’s body is like a limp noodle which makes it seem like Todd is the only thing holding him up, that if let go, Jesse would simply slide to the floor in a heap. Todd moves his hands from Jesse’s waist up to his back, pressing his arms into either side of Jesse’s spine so that he stays put, but his fingertips brush against softness at Jesse’s neck. Todd notices, again, how long Jesse’s hair has gotten, and his fingers trail through it, run up the back of Jesse’s scalp before he even thinks about doing it.

 

                And it’s when Todd is stroking Jesse’s head, when he’s just letting his fingers go wherever they need to, lets his hand clasp the back of Jesse’s skull as his mouth moves with Jesse’s, that he actually feels it: a sign from Jesse that he wants it.

 

                There’s a shift on Todd’s lap, then a hand resting atop his shoulder, when Todd feels Jesse open his mouth and push. Todd doesn’t rush it, but attempts to copy Jesse’s move from before by breaching past Jesse’s lips with just a tip of tongue. And when he finally fills that space inside Jesse, it feels as good as it did the last time, only now it’s Todd who’s getting the response, and that makes it all the more sweet.

 

                He hears Jesse breathing faster, feels him doing that rocking thing with Todd as the kiss gets deeper, but then there’s this tiny sound that comes from Jesse, like a sigh and a whimper mixed together, that makes Todd squeeze him closer. The next moment, he’s got Jesse’s head in his grip while the other hand starts to stroke his cheek, reveling in the touch, and all the while there’s more tongue and more sighs, and it’s almost too much for Todd to bear. And when that sound comes from Jesse again, it’s louder; a moan that’s short and punctuated, but one that echoes through Todd like radar, so that Todd can suddenly see it, sees this light like an orb open up in his head. And the orb has a pulse and it beats in front of Todd, in time with his heart, until all Todd wants is to feel that light come inside him, but it’s just out of reach, just like Jesse, so he pushes harder, his tongue so deep and his mouth so wide that they ache, but Todd doesn’t care, he just needs that light, just wants to devour that tiny circle of white because he knows what it is now, and it’s something he’s been missing, but here’s Jesse giving it up, and if only Todd can have it, everything will be better, and Jesse will be better, and Lydia will be better, and Todd will have figured it out.

 

                He presses Jesse backwards, moves his legs out from under him so that he can position Jesse to the floor, but suddenly something is wrong, suddenly Jesse’s squirming and trying to get out from under him, and that orb is speeding off, like it’s running from Todd, but Todd doesn’t want to let it go. And he gets a sudden image of his rabbit again, how it had run around outside in a pen before Todd had taken it home, the way it would dart this way and that, it’s tail bopping up and down as it jacked left and right. But then the light is gone, and it’s just Todd holding Rabbit in his arms and wishing he could feel something besides soft fur, squeezing tighter until those skittish, jerky motions stopped.

 

                Jesse wrenches his head to the side. “Aw, _Christ,”_ he cries, and then he pounds on Todd, hits him with a fist.

 

                “Get off! Jesus, get the fuck off!”

 

                And Todd realizes that he’s between Jesse’s legs, that he’s been thrusting his crotch into Jesse this whole time. Quickly, he moves his hands to hold Jesse’s head in place again, keeps him from twisting it to and fro so that he can kiss him once more and get back to that glowball. But now Jesse is telling him no, is trying to kick at him as Todd moves to pin Jesse’s wrists down. He just needs Jesse to stay still for one goddamned second.

 

                “Todd, stop!”

 

                He feels something else, then, and it’s almost a shock. His prick is so hard it could snap in a breeze, it’s ready to bust through his pants, but he hasn’t had a vision of Lydia once during this whole practice session. And that can’t be good.

 

                Todd gets off of Jesse in a hurry, like they’ve just been wrestling and the coach has whistled for the break. Jesse scrambles to sit up, his expression as wild as his hair.

 

                “What the fuck?” Jesse’s eyes are burning now, no more tears shining anywhere. “What are you, a faggot now, Todd? You gonna suck my dick next? Don’t expect that Uncle Jack’s gonna be too happy to hear that.”

 

                Todd backs up against the wall, the heel of his hand pressed to his zipper trying to minimize the bulge there.

 

                “Shut up, Pinkman. That was your fault.”

 

                Jesse looks crazy now. “What? How the fuck do you figure that, _Todd_?”

 

                “Keep your voice down. Unless you want Lester to come down here and fuck you some more.”

 

                Todd’s hard-on is still raging, though, shows no sign of flagging, and the suggestion that Jesse get fucked is not what Todd should be thinking about.

 

                But Jesse does go quiet. He’s watching Todd carefully, yet there’s nothing but disgust pouring from his gaze. When he starts moving in Todd’s direction, it’s Todd’s turn to be nervous. He knows he’s got at least fifty pounds on Jesse, and he’s drawn his fist back the closer Jesse gets. Yet, Jesse isn’t going for a punch, Jesse’s still on his knees and he’s reaching between Todd’s legs.

 

                “Hey!”

 

                By then, Jesse’s right on top of him, and he’s unbuckling Todd’s pants. Todd goes to stop him, pushes him once, but then waits—waits to see what Jesse is going to do. The belt is opened, his zipper has come down, and Jesse has Todd’s dick throbbing in his hand, is stroking it so fast - not even any spit for lube - that it starts to fucking hurt. And the whole time, Jesse’s face is inches from Todd's, and he can hear Jesse hiss as his hand pumps faster, can hear his chains rattling like machinery with the speed. Jesse is looking straight into him and there’s nothing but hate there, nothing left of whatever Todd thought he had seen. It finally hits Todd that Jesse can never be his friend.

 

                It takes less than a minute for Todd to come. He spurts onto his pants and all over Jesse’s hand with a strangled shout, but Jesse keeps going, won’t slow down, until Todd is finished. Then he wipes his hand, front and back, all over Todd’s pant leg.

 

                Jesse goes back to his thin little mattress and throws himself on it, reaches for his blanket and then pulls it over him, curling his body into a question mark. Todd expects to hear snoring any minute, but he doesn’t stick around. He zips himself up quick and races over the rungs, pulls up the ladder with no regard to the noise, then closes the grate like he’s slamming closed the gate to hell. The padlock is set in place, the tarp is thrown over the hole, and Todd can breathe now that he no longer has to look at Jesse. He takes off towards the clubhouse, desperate to flee that cell.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Todd stays away for three days.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to celeryy for her research on this particular chapter. And for her very helpful notes. 
> 
> I plan to make a post about my thoughts on Todd in the next few days, and when it is up, I will add the link to this story, if anyone is interested in a discussion.
> 
> Thank you to everyone for your comments. I loved some of the insight I see in these remarks. Even when the review is not entirely positive, I'm always interested in feedback and what people think about the characters.

 

 

“Hey! Todd! What the hell is going on with your boy, out there? He sounds like a dying coyote. You planning on shutting him the hell up some time this morning or you waiting for one of us to do it? ‘Cause I don’t got a problem taking care of it, if that’s what you want.”

 

Kenny stands at the doorway to the clubhouse, his arm extended and pointing towards the area where Jesse’s cell is located. Todd is eating his sandwich while he searches the Internet, but quickly shuts his laptop before Kenny can get a look.

 

“Oh, he’s just been a little sick. He’ll be alright, soon.”

 

He’s lucky that Uncle Jack has been away a few days, the hollering Jesse was doing last night would have been a definite problem if more of them had been around. His uncle would have ended Jesse as sure as Todd drew breath, meth money be damned. As the evening played out, Todd ended up bribing Matt into dropping a bottle of water into Jesse’s cell, hoping it would put a stop to the frantic yelling. It was still a little too soon for Todd to see him, especially at night. At least this morning has only been punctuated every fifteen minutes or so by Jesse’s warbling moans.

 

“ _Sick_? Aw, well, gosh, we gonna let him rest up for the week, make sure he gets healthy?” Kenny frowns as if he’s actually worried about Jesse for one tenth of a second before returning to a sneer. “Damn, son, you are _soft_. Just spending your time taking care of that pussy like he’s your little buddy, huh? Bringing him special treats, buying him clothes. I see you out there with him. You got to remember that this is business, Todd. No one gives a shit if he’s sick, we got a quota to fill. Get him out of that cell and back to work. Or I’ll do it for you.”

 

Kenny’s moved to the pool table, his arms crossed. He has a shine in his eyes like he’s daring Todd to let him mess with Jesse again, and Todd gets out of his chair, stands tall to let him know that it’s not going to happen, not as long as he’s around. He knows that Jesse doesn’t like him anymore – not that he ever did, it was just nice when he pretended to – but for some strange reason, he still wants to protect Jesse. The idea of Kenny or Lester getting in that cell and touching him again makes Todd see bad things in his head, makes him think about breaking out a barrel and some hydrofluoric acid on any one of those guys if they lift a hair on Jesse’s head.

 

“I’m … giving him a break. Like some personal days. We’re, uh, we need to get some of the equipment maintenanced and I’ve been researching online for ways to do it cheap. I may need to buy some stuff. I need to run it by Lydia, first.”

 

“Lydia? Fuck that bitch; you need to run it by _us_. This is _our_ operation. You wanna buy new equipment, you need to sit down with me and Jack and get approval. What do you think you’re doing, making _decisions_ like you know what the fuck is up? You can’t even do the cook right, Todd, we gotta put up with that rat out there doing it for you.”

 

Before Todd can even get a word out in response, they hear Jack pull up in his shiny new truck. Todd starts thinking really fast as he listens to his uncle get out and start walking towards the building. A pitiful wail invades the room as the door opens and Uncle Jack steps inside. The sound is cut short with a slam. Uncle Jack doesn’t look happy, and stands with his hands flipped at his hips.

 

“What the hell, Todd? What’s going on out there? Why’s Pinkman in the ground when the sun is up and there’s a cook that’s supposed to be happening?” He doesn’t act mad, but that’s somehow worse. Todd thinks about the way Uncle Jack would always get real calm the minutes before he beat the shit out of him.

 

“I was just going to take care of it, Uncle Jack. He’s just been … sick. With, like, a fever and vomiting and stuff. I was trying to get other things done while we took a break.”

 

“A break? Well, now, that’s interesting, ‘cause I just got a call on my way over here from your lady love. She’s asking me why you won’t answer your phone. Seems she’s been trying to get in touch with you for the last couple of days. You got an answer for that, Todd?”

 

They all hear another moan carry across the flats and through the window. Todd stays quiet, knows that he’s never been too good at lying. Uncle Jack watches him intently as he waits for a reply, then glances to Kenny, then back at the window.

 

“Goddamn, this caterwauling keeps up I might just put him down myself. You understand? You wanted this responsibility, Toddy. Begged for it, even. You need to learn to deal with your pet _and_ your business contacts better. This isn’t playtime, this is real life, boy. It doesn’t stop. Now, go on, and get that fucker to work. And call that nutcase of yours and tell her that production is back on.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Todd puts his cup of tea down and unplugs his laptop to take it to his room, but as soon as he heads in that direction, his uncles are squawking again.

 

“Jesus! Where you going?!” “What did I just finish saying?!”

 

“Alright, alright, geez.”

 

He doesn’t want Kenny touching his laptop, just in case, so he takes it with him. Kenny’s pretty good with electronics, and he knows computer shit even better. If he found the pictures Todd had been looking at, Todd would never hear the end of it, and even worse, Kenny could blackmail him to get Jesse back for his little games. Jack has stopped giving Kenny the cold shoulder, but there’s still some tension between the two brothers. Todd stops at the fridge and grabs three water bottles and a container of pudding on his way to the door, rushing past Kenny and Jack as they watch him like hawks.

 

As soon as he’s outside, Todd gets a twisting sensation in his stomach. He’s not exactly nervous – Jesse can’t do anything to him from down in his hole – but he’s still hesitant to see him. He’s seen enough Jesse in his dreams the past few nights already. At least they weren’t sex dreams, but oddly, he realizes they were somehow worse. In the dreams, he and Jesse would just be hanging out. Jesse wouldn’t be in chains and he wouldn’t be angry, he’d just be Todd’s friend. Todd would tell Jesse a joke and Jesse would laugh, real loud, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. And Todd would take him to places that he liked or show Jesse his collections, and Jesse would say that Todd was really cool, and that would mean a lot to Todd, because it was coming from Jesse.

 

Then Todd would wake up, and all those feelings he felt in the dream would be siphoned out of him like gas in a tank.

 

Todd gets to the wall that oversees Jesse’s cell, sets the items clustered in his arms down on the ground. The sun is shining, but the cold is getting severe enough that Todd’s windbreaker does nothing to live up to its name. He drags over the bucket by its rope and fills it with the water and pudding before pulling back the tarp. Todd pauses for a deep breath first, but as the green plastic whooshes from the overlap, he can see Jesse on the ground, curled up with legs tucked under his chin. The smell hits him in the next second.

 

Todd kneels down at the edge of the grate and slips off his key. Once it’s opened, he sends down the bucket carefully, the weight of the bottles shifting to one side making it tip and sway. It’s almost to the bottom and Jesse hasn’t moved, isn’t yelling and shouting and reaching for the refreshments like Todd expected he would. He halts the descent, doesn’t want the assortment to land on Jesse’s head.

 

“Hey. Jesse. I bought you more water.”

 

Jesse still doesn’t budge, but his voice surges up like it’s coming from down a deep well. It sounds scratchy and shaky, yet Todd can tell that Jesse’s pretty mad, like he’s barely holding it in.

 

“I _rrran_ out two days ago, _you … fffuck_. You can’t just … _leave me_ _nnnforget_ about me.”

 

“I had Matt bring you some last night.”

 

“That was _one_ bottle … _asshole_.” Jesse is finally impelled to stir, glares up at Todd with a face that’s blotchy and gaunt. There are flesh-colored tracks through the dirt on his cheeks. Jesse’s eyes seem small and dull, like they’ve sunken into the sockets of his skull. He tries to sit up, but falls back down quickly, another whimper elongating out of him into a moan. Todd can see that it’s going to be impossible to get Jesse to empty the bucket and switch the rope. He’s going to have to go down there. He sighs as he stands up to get the ladder. Things can never be easy with Jesse.

 

When he gets to the bottom, the stench almost suffocates him. It’s chilly in the hole, but the heat glows from the roof over the spot where Jesse lays. He’s shivering anyway, and Todd knows that isn’t any good. He wants to make this quick, do all the caretaking and get Jesse up to the top before Uncle Jack comes around. And the sooner that he can get Jesse started on the cook, the sooner he can scurry away. He looks around for the waste pail, spots it in the corner, right next to the box from the restaurant. Todd empties the bottles and the pudding, unties the rope to make the change.

 

“Here. Don’t drink too fast, though. You’ll make yourself sick.”

 

Todd’s grabbing the handle of the other bucket, wishes he had something to tie around his mouth and nose. But there’s only piss and an empty, cap-less water bottle floating in there. He takes another look at the contents of the open box and that sure as shit isn’t German Chocolate Cake anymore.

 

“Jesse, how’re your kidneys feeling?”

 

There’s no answer, and when Todd turns around he can see Jesse’s made another attempt to sit up as shaking hands twist the top off the first bottle. Almost a third of the liquid splashes on the floor as Jesse works to bring it to his mouth, and Todd makes his way over to take the bottle out of his hands, makes Jesse tip his head back.

 

“Wait, drink it slowly.”

 

Jesse whines as the water fills his mouth, which then turn to coughs and splutters as half of the liquid comes back up again, even through his nose. Todd has to hold the back of Jesse’s head, has to hold the bottle like he’s feeding a baby, before Jesse can swallow normally. Todd can see Jesse’s throat bob and spasm as he drinks, the gulps reminding Todd of a cartoon.

 

“Take it easy. You gotta calm down,” Todd tells him, but now he’s getting a little worried. He reviews the information from the medical website in his head and looks for the signs it listed as he scans Jesse’s face. “Why don’t you take over while I get your shit out of here so you can eat?” The smell hasn’t dissipated and he can hear flies swarming around the box. He’s going to have to leave the tarp off for a while, make sure it gets aired out down here, but he’s concerned there’s not a lot of urine in the pail. He knows that’s not a good sign, either, but it wasn’t like he left Jesse with nothing.

 

“Hey, Jesse? I’ve got to make sure you’re not too dehydrated, okay? Ain’t you pissin’ anymore? There ain’t a whole lot in the bucket.”

 

Jesse throws down the empty bottle, immediately grabs another one to open. His body weaves and rolls like a drunken sailor, and his eyes are barely open, but he scolds Todd with a throaty rumble. “You left me for almost forty-eight hours without any water, you piece of shit.” He starts glugging the other bottle, grabs the container of pudding in his other hand and holds it like an apple. Todd winces. He imagines that piss tastes pretty rancid and doesn’t think he’d be able to do it, but he wonders if Jesse did and that’s part of why he’s so angry. Maybe he couldn’t go through with it, and that makes him just as mad. Todd heads up the ladder with the box in the bucket, lets Jesse replenish his fluids in peace.

 

When he returns to the open grate, Todd can hear Jesse weeping – it’s loud the way a little kid cries – but then the sobs turn back into coughs. Todd looks down and sees him sitting on the floor, the third bottle opened between his legs while he scrapes out the remainder of the banana pudding with his tongue. Jesse still weaves from side to side as he fights the little cup, like he might just tip over, but he gives up as soon as he notices Todd; throws the plastic cup at the wall of his cell and leans over his knees.

 

“I’m still starving,” Jesse says miserably. His voice is hoarse, and he doesn’t seem to care that there’s snot running from his nose.

 

“Just hold on. I’ll get you some sandwiches in a minute. I should probably get some other stuff for you, as well. You’ll be alright, soon. But first we got to get you back in the lab.”

 

“Get me some Gatorade … _Todd_. I nee—need electrolytes. I ca—can’t … I can’t get up the …” but Jesse can’t finish as he breaks down into another fit of tears.

 

“I can do that, Jesse. That’s real smart, yeah. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

 

“Why do you keep punishing me?” Jesse asks pitifully. “I was—was trying to be good. What do you want from me?” He finally does wipe under his nose with the back of his hand.

 

“I’m not punishing you, Jesse.”

 

Todd’s not sure if that’s true, though. He doesn’t have any desire to punish Jesse, only does it when he has to, but in this instance, he feels like the person who was being punished the most was really himself. He wishes that he could answer Jesse’s question, wishes that he knew exactly what it is that he wants from Jesse. Todd has looked at videos of men doing things to each other on his computer, late at night in his room, but he doesn’t really want to do any of that. It doesn’t get him worked up, or make him think about Jesse that way at all, but instead of feeling relief, Todd has been more confused than ever. But it isn’t like Todd gets that worked up over regular porn, either. It had felt awful when Jesse had jerked him off. It had been like a _violation_ , which makes him sound kind of girlish, like the ladies on Oprah, but that’s the best word, really. He hadn’t wanted to do anything to Jesse except kiss him, but it had gotten all fucked up and ruined, and the real truth of it was that it hadn’t even been about the kiss so much as it had been about … Jesse. Jesse and the light. Todd had never felt anything like that before and it bummed him out that he had only been able to feel it for a little while before it was gone again. It had been so nice. Warm. Special. That feeling of being really close to someone.

 

Jesse tries again, but he’s swallowing in big gasps, the sobs are back. “What happened between me and Mr. White – that was something that had nothing to do with you guys. You don’t know what he did – did to me. And I – I didn’t have a choice. I had to ta—talk to them, they had me at the cop’s house. I’m not – I couldn’t … it’s just that I can’t keep doing this. Just please, Todd. Just please kill me, okay? I can’t do it myself. Just … do this for me. Put a bullet in my head, make it quick. Don’t make me keep going through this. _Please_.”

 

Todd watches Jesse fall apart and he can’t help but feel bad again. Maybe even worse than bad.

 

“I can’t do that, Jesse. I need you too much.” But that only makes Jesse cry harder.

 

“I’ll go get those sandwiches. I’m sorry, Jesse.” And for once, he really means that last part.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

His eyes open into darkness.

 

Todd sits up in his bed and looks over at the clock on his dresser. The red LCD numbers appear to shimmer, the way stars do when you stare at them long enough, but the little dashes cobbled together tell him that it’s three thirty in the morning and Todd wonders what woke him up.

 

He listens for sound from the outside, his window still open a crack even though it’s really chilly at night. At first, Todd thinks that he hears Jesse shouting, but then realizes it was just in his dream, that last image still a part of his senses. It’s the second night he’s had the dream, ever since he saw the file in the email Kenny sent him. He knows it was Kenny even without the sender’s identity, can tell who’s who in the video, but he’s still not sure why he received it. Even the way the file self-destructed as soon as Todd had watched it was all Kenny, that strange, ghostly face laughing manically over the images before the edges of his screen started to disintegrate like a snowstorm swallowing up the picture. Todd can’t figure out what game Kenny is playing, though, why he would want Todd to see that.

 

The things they had been doing to Jesse had been pretty nasty, but then Todd had seen the results of their fun, so he hadn’t exactly been surprised at the severity. But seeing it firsthand … it had bothered Todd. The walls behind them had been painted black, and Todd remembers what Jesse had said, starts to ask himself why he hadn’t stopped it earlier. Kenny wasn’t invincible, he had his weaknesses. He could be handled, just as Jesse had managed to accomplish. And family wasn’t always everything – he knew that. He feels disappointment in himself, like he let Jesse down, and that opens up a whole can of weird feelings that won’t let him sleep at night. Makes it hard to be around Jesse even during the day.

 

He gets up after a while. Dresses quickly and picks up his boots. Todd slips through the hallway quietly, boots in hand, and heads for the front room.

 

When he’s outside, he fits his boots on and then walks swiftly towards Jesse’s pen, runs through the long stretch where the light spreads a wide net. He gets to the wall by Jesse’s cell and he’s breathing hard, his head throbbing, but he drops to the ground and takes a corner of the tarp. Todd lifts up an edge as silently as he can. Sees Jesse sleeping, his face and shoulders glowing orange from the heat overhead. He breathes a sigh of relief and leans his back against the stone of the building, pulling out his pack of cigarettes to settle down for a smoke.

 

He stays a few hours, until patches of the sky begin to lighten into a pale blue. He feels useful out here, feels like Jesse’s protector. He supposes that Jesse would see it differently, would see him as more of a warden, but that’s not anything that Todd can change. He thinks that it’s a lot better for Jesse if he takes care of him, rather than Kenny or Frankie, or hell, even Uncle Jack.

 

Todd hears murmuring, tilts forward to stare at the tarp as if it might suddenly become transparent. Jesse’s saying something, but he can’t make it out. He leans over far enough that he can switch to his knees, lifts up the corner again to see down below. Jesse is still asleep, but he’s twitching and mumbling as though he’s in the middle of a dream.

 

“You don’t give a shiiiitabout me,” Jesse slurs angrily, his arm jerking backwards. He turns on his back, kicks off the thick blanket Todd bought a few weeks ago. “Walt,” he says suddenly and very clearly. Todd waits for Jesse to wake, but he stays unconscious. “ _Walt_ ,” he repeats, spitting the final consonant as if Mister White were right in front of him and he’s trying to get his attention. “Walt.” Todd watches him for a few more minutes, and Jesse says Mister White’s name at least three more times before he finally falls silent.

 

Todd drops the cover, stands up and wipes the dirt off the seat of his pants. He’s pretty frozen by now, but Todd doesn’t care, really, although he thinks that he may need to set up camp for Jesse in the lab pretty soon. He heads toward the clubhouse with a sleepy gait, knows that he’ll be back tomorrow night to watch over Jesse again.

 

 

* * *

 

               

The banging sound beckons him.

 

                Todd slips inside the back entrance of the Quonset hut, knows that Jesses is breaking blue. These days, he waits until Jesse’s done, until he’s back in his cell before Todd cryovacs the crystal. It’s easier for Jesse if Todd’s not around when he’s working. Todd considers the thought that it’s easier for him, too; that keeping his distance from Jesse helps him see things more clearly.

 

                He watches from behind the industrial bakery racks they use to hold the sheets of cooling crystal, a thick plastic drape making the column opaque. Most of the time, Jesse moves in slow but familiar steps—a dance he’ll never forget. Todd’s been noticing how Jesse’s changed over the weeks that have passed, since he’s been more on his own. It’s blank in his face all the time now, like Jesse has stopped thinking altogether. But Todd keeps coming back, looks for a spark to appear when Jesse thinks that he’s by himself. Sometimes Todd sees it, a dreaminess steals over Jesse’s features, his eyes shining for a few minutes before they’re unseeing again. Todd likes those brief moments, although he wishes he could see what was in Jesse’s head during those flashes of life.

 

                The rest of the time, the times in which Todd brings Jesse from the cell to the lab, and then from the lab back to the cell, when he brings him his meals, brings him water for a bath: Jesse no longer fights anything. He lets Todd lead him around by his chains, his resistance a thing of the past. Hardly any words pass between them now. Even when Todd has to speak, has to direct Jesse, or communicates any upcoming plans, Jesse remains quiet, nods yes or no when a reply is needed.

 

It reminds Todd of when he had that kid’s tarantula in the jar, before it eventually died. He studied how it reacted to being stuck inside such a tiny space, and that spider would scurry and scrape and push its soft underbelly to the glass for days, until the days turned to weeks and it realized it was never getting out. Then that tarantula curled up in a ball and didn’t move a whole lot. Todd finally got bored of looking at it and had flushed it down the toilet.

 

Jesse stops banging and twists to the side to readjust his cable, the line still traveling to the chain link that sits at his waist, the padlock at the small of his back swaying with the motion. He goes back to pounding on the trays, but there’s not much force behind it, merely enough to get the job done.

 

Todd had come in the night before to discover that Jesse had gained some company. Lester had snuck into the hangar and had Jesse backed up against one of the vats, had been pinning Jesse’s arms above his head. Jesse had looked positively disinterested, as though he really could give two fucks what Lester was about to do to him. Todd had stepped in quick, anyway, had explained that it was time for Jesse to go back to his cell. Lester had glared at Todd the whole way to the exit, and Todd had made sure to be outside of Jesse’s grate a little earlier for the nightly watch. He has a pretty bad cold now, and it’s kind of risky watching Jesse from his current spot because he’s been sneezing all day, but he just needs to see it before he goes.

 

It occurs to him that if he had come in just a few minutes later, had found Lester on top of Jesse, instead, Todd might have done something bad. Might have taken Lester out. But when he summons the image, he doesn’t see Lester, he sees himself on top of Jesse, sees Jesse fighting him, and he wonders if that’s what Jesse felt, that Todd’s kiss had been as bad as what Lester and them had been doing. It makes him feel strangely upset to believe that, however, the thought that Jesse hates him that much.

 

The quiet reverberates through the hut when Jesse finally stops. Todd watches him pick up a bag of blue, watches as Jesse brings it close to his nose and breathes in deeply. Jesse hugs the bag close to his chest and there’s that faint smile, just for a moment, before he puts it down, almost reverently. It’s a strange move, but Todd is happy to see the smile.

 

He pads quietly out of the hut to get Jesse’s dinner. Todd doesn’t bring him treats anymore, because he’s afraid Jesse will take it the wrong way, but they’ve got fried chicken tonight, and chicken’s pretty good.

 

 

* * *

 

“It’s a nice color on you. It’s kind of a … I don’t know exactly what you’d call it, but it’s kind of a … _cornflower?_ ”

 

Todd’s trying, he really is. It’s been like going back to square one with Lydia, ever since that disastrous dinner. He’s putting in the effort to build things back to where they were before, one compliment at a time. Todd still likes Lydia – he does. He imagines holding her, stroking her hair, trying to keep her from getting too nervous, whispering to her so that her eyes don’t get so bugged out. But every time he imagines kissing her these days, things get complicated. Because when he imagines the kiss, the other person is less Lydia and starts to become more Jesse, and Todd can’t afford to keep thinking about kissing Jesse. There’s a pain in his chest that he can’t explain when it happens.

 

In a flash, there’s an old man sitting at their table. He starts rambling about having a minute of their time and as soon as Todd gets a good look at him, he’s shocked to see that it’s Mister White. And Todd’s even more shocked to realize that he’s not happy to see him, is irritated that he’s back. They gave Mister White a chance and he screwed up. There’s no way that Uncle Jack will let Mister White live this time. Mister White is just being stupid by showing up here, and it lessens Todd’s opinion of the man. But then he wonders if maybe his opinion of Mister White has been lessening for a while, and that seeing him here, in the flesh, confirms what’s been at the back of Todd’s mind all along. It doesn’t sound like he treated Jesse too good.

 

_“You’re running out of methylamine, aren’t you? I can do the math. You’ve been at it long enough, you must be running low.”_

Mister White goes on about a new method but Todd is already shaking his head. This isn’t going to work. He waits for Lydia to refuse him, but gets confused when that doesn’t happen. He can’t believe she’s even considering the option and he fears that Uncle Jack might step in and tell Lydia how business is done. The whole operation is in jeopardy just by having Mister White around.

 

He feels pretty dumb after Mister White leaves and Lydia gives him that look as he questions her about her intentions. “Todd, don’t make me walk you through this,” she tells him in a rather obnoxious tone. Lydia isn’t always the nicest person.

 

Leaving The Grove, Todd’s phone starts to sing. He thinks that maybe he needs to change that ringtone; it’s gotten pretty annoying now that he’s had a few weeks of it. He looks at the name on the screen and takes note of his uncle’s perfect timing.

 

“Hey, Uncle Jack. Yeah, I’m on that, but … I think we maybe have a little hiccup in the works. We’re gonna need to have everyone at the clubhouse tonight.”

 

There’s a grumble at the other end.

 

“Yeah, I know. But it’s about Mister White …”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s the whirring noise that he notices first.

 

The air is still thick with the acrid smell of gun charges, but Todd can hear that ratcheting sound from the window, wonders how many men Mister White has brought with him. He can hear Jesse groan, then his uncle Jack, and he starts to call out for one, even though he’s more worried about the other. No one else is moving much except Jesse and Mister White. He glances into Jesse’s face for a moment, sees that he’s unharmed. There’s a ringing in Todd’s ears, and the room has gone smoky, but he needs to assess the situation, needs to find out what Mister White has done.

 

Still on his belly, he slithers across the floor to make it to the window. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his Uncle Jack trying to sit up, but his Uncle Jack probably isn’t going to make it; those were a lot of bullets flying around. Todd is thinking already that if Uncle Jack dies, and all the rest of the gang is as dead as they appear to be, then maybe Todd can partner up with Jesse and Mister White. After all, Mister White obviously won, has proven to be the smarter option. Todd shouldn’t have doubted him. There might even be a chance that Todd can be the one to help Jesse and Mister White become friends again, and with Lydia’s help, they can really make their meth business something. Todd still has most of the money they stole from Mister White sitting in those barrels, and he believes Mister White would be happy to see them again, that they’ll be able to use the money however Mister White sees fit.

 

He sucks in his breath as he reaches up for the window sill, takes a peek through the blinds and looks for the source of the whirring sound, still making its cyclical notes from outside. Todd doesn’t see anyone out there, just Mister White’s car in the same place, the trunk now open. There’s a big gun in the back of it, popped up like a periscope, and there’s a haze of smoke around it while flames lick the corners of the trunk. The ground is littered with emptied cartridges. Todd is amazed. It’s the coolest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

 

“Jesus,” he whispers in admiration. He really hopes Mister White can show him how he did that.

 

“Mister White,” he calls, getting ready to turn and ask the man about the M60’s bullet capacity, but suddenly there’s someone behind him and the cold snap of steel on his flesh takes him by surprise. He hears the scream through gritted teeth and he knows instantly that it’s Jesse, knows that it’s Jesse’s chains that are wrapped around Todd’s neck, and in a tiny part of his brain, he thinks it’s kind of funny. _Ironic,_ he corrects, realizing in that instant what the word really means.

 

He gets tugged backwards, tries to pull away, but then they’re both smashing down on the pool table, and what little breath Todd has is knocked out of him. Todd is reminded again that Jesse is a lot stronger than he looks, that he had managed to climb out of a fucking hole, for fuck’s sake, so Todd really should have been more careful around him.

 

Jesse is still screaming through his groans, like he’s the one that’s being strangled. Todd thinks that maybe that’s how Jesse sounded when Kenny and the boys were holding him down, when Kenny shocked him with the cattle prod, when they did those things to Jesse in the video. And then Todd remembers the way Jesse sounded when he had to beat him in the face with the bike chain. Remembers how Jesse screamed when Todd came back from shooting Andrea, how he screamed when Todd was on top of him trying to kiss him. He thinks that there’s a lot of screaming built up in Jesse; that he might never stop, and it’s starting to penetrate Todd’s brain that this might be the last sound he ever hears.

 

He’s trying to get fingers under the chain to release the pressure, but his vision is getting swimmier every second now and he really can’t breathe at all. It’s like he’s the fish sitting on the deck of a boat, gasping through its gills but getting nothing for its troubles. Todd sees blackness encroaching and spots before his eyes. Everything is starting to fade. Jesse’s breath is right in his ear, and he’s still screaming behind his teeth as he holds fast to the chain on either side of Todd’s neck. It feels like a giant bruise on his throat, like he’s been sitting here for days as Jesse’s taken punch after punch right at Todd’s windpipe.

 

Todd feels his body moving, but the sensations are taking longer to get to his brain. He suddenly sees an image, bright and shiny, like he’s right there, right in his old trailer, and he’s walked into his mother’s room, sees her laying on her bed staring at him, but she’s really staring at nothing, the needle still stuck in her arm. Todd is only fourteen, but he walks up closer to her, until he’s right next to her face. He searches every inch of it, looks for something that was never there to begin with, and now, now there’s nothing there at all. His mother is gone and Todd doesn’t feel sad, he doesn’t even feel mildly upset. But something makes Todd reach out and slap her face anyway. Because she had been a shitty mother.

 

He’s seen a lot of dead bodies since then, and he’s never felt anything about any of them. But that time he had – that time, it had been a personal matter. He’d wished that he could have done it himself, helped his mother overdose, but the thought hadn’t occurred to him. Seeing her dead, though – that had been enough, had been kind of satisfying.

 

And as Todd struggles to get the tiniest measure of air into his lungs, his head feeling like a balloon that’s about to pop, Todd imagines that it’s the same with Jesse. He can hear and feel Jesse’s hatred pouring into him with every squeeze and every scream and, for a moment, it’s like that light is back. Todd can see it, can see that little ball zooming around ahead of him, showing him the way, and he’s happy it’s there. It makes him wish that he’d met Jesse under different circumstances, that maybe they _could_ have been friends if the rest of it hadn’t been so fucked up. Todd would have really liked that. But he understands how Jesse feels now.

 

The moment before Todd’s last breath, before the crunch of bone cuts off any other thought, Todd thinks it one more time, thinks that he should have realized it way back when he took Jesse with them to the compound. It was always going to be different with Jesse, because Jesse was different. With Jesse, everything mattered.

 

With Jesse, it would always be personal.

 

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone interested in my take on Todd and the origins of the story, I've written a piece about it here:
> 
> http://hollywoodlawn.livejournal.com/68006.html
> 
> Comments welcome.


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